Basketballs and Teddybears
by CSI1983
Summary: A murdered little girl finds Sara and Grissom being pushed closer together.  A serial killer on the loose pushes the rest of the team closer and closer to danger.  GSR
1. Chapter 1

**Basketball and Teddy bears**

Chapter One

Youth of a Nation

In the break room the small night shift of the Las Vegas crime lab sat discussing their last big case. Catherine, lounged on the plush blue chair opposite Sara, munching on a bag of corn chips. They had just recently closed a case with a killer husband and a couple of abused kids. If there was anything as exciting as starting a new case, it was closing one. They were finally able to relax after so many weeks of hard work.

"So can anybody tell me why the bad guys always think that they can dodge science and facts?"

She took another jam doughnut from the box on the table next to her. Nick, sitting on the opposite side of the room, shook his head.

"I guess hope is one of those things that never die. Right up there with stupidity."

Nick sat at the dining table with his feet on the top of it, flashed a wide grin. Warrick had just walked into the room and catching the last past of Nick's comment, nodded in agreement. Sara pointed to the table holding the donuts and indicated to herself and the others.

"Grab a donut, we were just talking about that last case we had."

"At least we got him that is the main thing"

Grissom walked in and all heads turned to him. Not wanting their attention to wonder anymore then it needed to he got straight into business.

"I hope you are all well rested because you will need as much energy as you can possible get. OK Warrick, Nick and Catherine, you guys have a DB in the middle of the Nevada Dessert. Couple of hikers found a shallow grave. That is pretty much all the info Brass gave me. Oh also Brass can't meet you there so one of his minions will be there waiting for you." Catharine took the piece of paper with the information on it out of Grissom's hand and turned to the two guys.

"Let's roll"

With a small wave the trio left the room. Sara looked at Grissom questioningly

"And for us?"

"I needed you to help me with an accidental killing"

Grissom handed the papers to Sara who raised her eyebrows doubtfully.

"There is such a thing as an accidental killing?"

Grissom only offered a vague shrug and waited as she continued to read. Sara handed the papers back to him with a slight sigh.

"I would rather work with you then in the heat with those guys anyway. It's so dead out there"

Glancing at Grissom she grimaced slightly.

"No pun intended."

* * *

As Catherine, Warrick and Nick drove through the heat to their destination in the middle of nowhere; a comfortable silence falling between them, despite the thick and heavy air that they were breathing in. Even the AC felt like it was doing nothing to ease the trio's discomfort.

"Hey, what do you think Sara and Grissom have?"

Catherine shrugged her eyes flicking quickly to Nick's through the rearview mirror before going back on the road.

"Nothing as fun as this surely. Whatever it is, I'm just glad to see those two willing to share the same breathing space again. It's been a horrible last couple of months."

Warrick nodded, his fingers drumming on the dash.

"Agreed. The more they interact, the better it is for the rest of us. Now let's hope that this DB keeps us busy enough for them to have air time."

Nick pushed himself back into his seat, groaning.

"Don't say that Warrick. Last time you said that I did two double shifts. Now thanks to you, I am going to be getting double time."

Warrick flashed Nick a smile.

"Then you can buy Cath and me a beer."

* * *

Sara was flicking through the radio stations while she and Grissom drove to the murder scene, trying to find some decent music. Claiming defeat, she switched it off and settled for staring out of the window. Sara had respect for Grissom and his work but she wondered how he could function on such a sub-human level. His detachment can come across as cold and calculated. Which in a way it almost was. Sara knew that it was more of a protection mechanism then a general hate of people but even with this knowledge Sara still found herself almost pulling her hair out in frustration at how he carried into his social world, the little one he had anyway. She often found herself wondering if he even felt the way the rest of the team did, if his heart hurt when he saw a small shattered body lying on the slab, or a innocent child being exploited by the adults they should be able to trust. As much as she liked and admired Grissom, he still made her more confused then anything else she had ever encountered.

"So this accidental killing… who accidentally died?"

Grissom remained silent until he turned a tight curve in the road.

"An eight year girl was shot with her parent's gun. Supposedly self-inflicted. The gun is missing though"

Sara gave a short sarcastic laugh.

"Supposedly. That is the key word in that sentence. And if she did it herself, she couldn't exactly hide the gun now could she? What suspects do we have?"

Grissom concentrated on the road as he spoke.

"Parents were not in the house; babysitter was downstairs when it happened. So if we go by the first on the scene first suspect rule, we have just the babysitter."

Silence fell back over the car as Sara continued to look out of the window.

"What the hell is an eight year old kid doing with a gun?"

Grissom shrugged

"That is where we come in. We just need to remember to focus on the evidence, and forget our own views."

Sara shook her head.

"All my life I was encouraged to voice my views, make them known. Seems rather ironic that I choose the one job where it count's for nothing."

Grissom said nothing, knowing that Sara didn't really need or want an answer, choosing instead to let the silence fall again, turning his focus back on the road.

* * *

A young very fresh looking sergeant who introduced himself as Nathan Lawrence, met Catherine, Warrick and Nick at the crime scene. After the introductions, he led them to the DB, shook hands with them again and left again rather rapidly. Approaching the tape they all slipped on their latex gloves and carefully stepped under the yellow strip. Lying before them was a partially covered body. It had already started decomposing, encouraged by the heat and humidity that often hit this part of the desert. The hot rains that had struck there in the last couple of weeks had swept away a lot of the dirt that covered it. Nick had just started taking photos of the surrounding crime scene when he stopped suddenly.

"Guys, check out the cuts. They are really tidy."

He indicated with a latex finger to the woman's wrist. Cath and Warwick both turned to their tool kits each removing a set of soft nylon brushes. They slowly started brushing away the dirt while Nick continued to click away, until after a length of time the whole body was on show. The cuts were not just limited to her wrists but were also on her inner thigh and neck. Cath sat back and studied the body for a moment.

"Do you guys remember back to some of your medical classes?"

Nick and Warrick nodded somewhat impatiently.

"Do you remember what they used to do back in the days of knights and duels for medical practice?"

Nick nodded again and started listing things off on his fingers.

"Leeches, suction cups, bleedings-"

Catherine held up her hand.

"Bingo. This girl was bleed. Look at the cuts. They are all positioned near major arteries or main veins."

Cath sat back on her heels, her torch shining on the cuts that covered the women. The edges were neat and smooth, as Nick had pointed out. There was no obvious struggle or dirt upset near the women, but then again the rains had washed away 90 of the evidence.

"She wasn't killed here. There is no blood anywhere, and even if the rain had washed most of it away, the huge amount of blood loss would mean there would be something. Nick, could you take a soil sample? We may need some sort of blood sample and we have nothing aside from that."

Nick nodded, and shoveled little scoops of dirt from different areas into different sample containers labeling them carefully.

"It's time to solve this puzzle boy's."

* * *

Some time later Sara and Grissom pulled up the driveway that led to an immense house, in an incredible rich neighborhood. Sara took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what she knew would be a difficult case.

"You ok?"

Grissom studied her as she smiled tightly.

"Fine. This is what shooting rangers and strong liquor were invented for, right?"

They both exited the vehicle and took their field kits from the trunk. Jim Brass stood near by the garden path waiting for them.

"Hey guys, how's it going?"

Grissom answered with a shrug

"Considering the circumstances."

Nodding his understanding Brass got down to business as they made their way up the path.

"Ok so the story is that Stacie Johnson eight was shot. Now the weapon is nowhere near the body. We have looked around the best we could and we cannot find it anywhere. The baby-sitter was the only person in the house; the parents were at golf and a charity function, respectively."

Grissom looked at Brass

"Anything else?"

Brass looked at the paper in his hand.

"The babysitter is Carla Reid, been with the family for two years, she's sixteen."

They had now reached the front step; upon entering through front door they took in their very extensive surroundings. Immediately to their left was a lobby for coats and such, to their right was a large winding staircase, covered in a lush cream carpet going all the way up the staircase. Brass led them through the living room, which was covered in the same carpet as the staircase, and the furniture, which was plush red. The latest entertainment equipment, including a Playstation 2 with a selection of games that would make both Nick and Greg drool, was set out on what looked like a solid oak entertainment unit. They went down a long hallway, which lead to another set of stairs, which was once again covered in the cream carpet. Going up them two at a time they where then led to the little girl's room.

"Ok this is my cue to leave. I will be downstairs doing some interviews come down when your finished here and you can ask your questions."

"Thanks Brass"

Sara watched Brass exit before following Grissom into the room. It looked like a normal little girl's room with stuffed animals and posters of pop stars lining the walls. Stacie was lying on her back, her head tilted slightly to the side, eyes wide and vacant. Blood was pooled around her head like a crimson halo. The gunshot itself was small and neat just above her right eyebrow. Blood had splattered on her bedspread indicating where the initial shot was taken.

"Ok Sara you start taking primary photos before we move anything, then we can start putting the puzzle together".

Sara nodded dumbly, not quite bringing herself to talk thanks to the bile that was now rising in her throat. She never would have guessed that a gunshot, which she has seen millions of times before, would ever affect her like this. And she could simply not pull her eyes away from the girl; her small body looking like a dummy, not the little girl that was on the walls smiling in photos. The sickly sweet smell of the blood hung heavily in the air, lending gravity to the crime, allowing it to become a distinct reality. _What a waste_ Sara thought to herself. She sensed Grissom watching her, turning slightly she looked at him expectantly

"Yes?"

Just that little word made the bile rise in her mouth, and she rushed quickly out of the room, found a sliding door leading to a patio outside, leant over with a lurch and emptied her stomach of what little she had eaten onto some lovely plants that had built a green wall around half of the house.

Feeling only a little better and a little dizzy, she sat down and took some deep breaths. Hearing footsteps behind her she became embarrassed when she recognized the light careful steps as Grissom's. Sitting quietly beside her, he handed over a cold glass of water and a sympathetic smile. As she drank she studied his features. With an almost constant frown on his face, wrinkle's, an endearing little twitch when he got really mad, hair that always looked slightly uncombed and a serious disposition, you could see every year that he had worked as a C.S.I on his face, the stress and strain etching a path all of it's own. Sara loved his eyes though. Blue, quite and wise. He was intelligent but not in a way that was in your face, it was more matter of fact. He was very closed off when it came to personal relationships though, something that Sara was trying to work on.

"You alright?"

Grissom's voice was concerned as he looked at her intently. She nodded slightly

"Must have eaten something bad at lunch"

Grissom stood up then indicated the house with his head

"Will you be alright with going back in there?"

Sara nodded more confidently then she felt and taking the hand he offered, she stood up, only to have her knees go all weak and give way slightly. Grabbing her around the waist and steadying her before she could fall and hit her head on the wooden deck area, Grissom was amazed as to how light she felt.

"Gives a new meaning to weak in the knees, doesn't it?"

Grissom voice was easy, his mouth betraying a slight smile. Holding Sara so close was making him feel dizzy, out of control. A feeling he hated, he needed to be in control. It was the only thing that made sense to him that wasn't science.

"You sure you ok?"

Sara looked at him and nodded regretfully slipping from his warm embrace

"I'm fine"

Grissom followed Sara as she made her way back into the house, giving himself a mental shake along the way.

* * *

Back at CSI headquarters, Catherine was about to go into the morgue to find out some information about the body found in the dessert. She had left Nick and Warrick back at the scene to do more processing while she had followed the body back and waited while the autopsy was preformed. That and she preferred the air-conditioned offices to the heavy desert air. Walking quickly down the slightly deserted halls leading to the coroners office, she wondered how Sara and Grissolm where doing on their new case.

"What you got for me on this wonderful evening Doc?"

The sarcasm was heavy in her voice as she swung the doors open and offered him a quick smile.

"You know I would not tolerate just anyone traipsing into my lab like that"

Doc Robbins had been there coroner for many years now and had formed a strong bond with the night shift.

"Yeah I know it's because I'm wonderful etc"

Catherine sighed with a slight wave of her hand, gracing Doc with a cheeky grin.

"And oh so modest to boot"

Doc gave Catherine a small quick smile and led her over to the body fridges.

"Right Miss wonderful, your victim here is Jessica Swaye an aspiring basketball player."

"Hold on, how did you know that?"

Doc shook his head.

"Cath, you should know that I like to get to know what my bodies do with their lives before they ended up on my table. For one her knees are slightly damaged and she has a missing tooth right out of the back of her mouth and the x-rays showed various jaw injuries which unless required from a form of abuse then she plays a sport and combined with her knees I put it down to Basketball."

Cath nodded

"Ok so you proved you earn your pitiful wage. What else you got for me?"

"Well I can tell you that her death was long and slow. She bled to death, which took hours but I noticed that your report said that there was only a little blood at the scene which means that whoever did this had a heck of a mess to clean"

Catherine nodded

"Remember though that the rain would have taken a lot of the blood away. I gave soil samples to Greg to see if the blood was absorbed though."

Doc smiled

"A murderer's friend and enemy. Mother nature."

He pointed at the wrists

"I discovered four main deep cuts on certain parts of the body. We have two on the wrist here, not much different from the cut a person wanting to commit suicide makes, except this is a lot deeper, almost to the bone that combined with the lack of hesitation marks indicates that someone else made the cuts in her wrists."

Catherine nodded mutely looking at both the marks on the wrists.

"Also there is a skull fracture, caused by what looks like a very flat wide object, a shovel maybe. But it looks like she was knocked out before they did any of this, so it's a small consolation for all of us"

Pointing to the side of the young girl's neck he urged Catherine closer.

"This cut here is the main one that caused the most blood loss. For one it is a faster flowing vein aside from the thigh, and for some reason they have cut it so deep, you can almost see her spine."

Pulling the sheet covering the rest of the torso down, he pointed to a deep cut on the inner thigh

"This is the last and final cut, but I can tell you this, the guy who did this used a scalpel. This job is far too neat to be anything else. He knew exactly what he was doing"

Taking a deep breath he leant over the body

"I can find no sign of a struggle, or any indication of sexual violation. She knew this person."

Doc pulled the sheet back over the body, and handed Catherine the report, and she smiled brightly at Doc.

"Thank you"

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room wondering if the guys were back yet.

* * *

After collecting all the evidence at the scene, Sara and Grissom headed back outside to help question the parents and babysitter. Approaching Amy and Richard Johnson, Sara took a deep breath and stuck out her hand

"Sara Sidle, CSI. Sorry for your loss"

Amy shook her hand, the skin decidingly cold and a little damp, while Richard who was sobbing openly, ignored it. Amy was a petite, dye job blonde with a very royal air about her. Dressed in a dark blue dress suit she screamed money with her clothes, hair and huge ring that sparkled on her left wedding finger. Richard Johnson on the other hand looked casual and definitely not a millionaire look in a white tennis shirt and jeans. Tall with salt and pepper hair, he looked more like the grandfather type rather then a father.

"It was a tragic accident that took our precious Stacie; I don't understand why all the police are here"

Mrs. Johnson spoke in a cold calculated voice, sounding like she was discussing a canceled social event not the death of her stepdaughter.

"Our job is to ensure that the evidence says the same as what you are saying."

Grissom said in voice just as cold, taking an instant dislike to the snobby women. Sara glanced at Mr. Johnson who had stopped sobbing and just stood with his head hanging down.

"Mr. Johnson, where were you when all this happened?"

Mr. Johnson looked at Sara his eyes cold and distant.

"What do you mean 'where was I'?"

Mr. Johnson took a step towards Sara

"Are you accusing me of doing something to my daughter?"

Amy Johnson was smiling as her husband advanced on Sara, making no move to stop him.

"No sir, I just need to ask these questions to establish an alibi for both you and your wife so that we can dismiss you as suspects."

Mr. Johnson took yet another step towards Sara, cracking his knuckles. Grissom took a step towards Mr. Johnson himself, placing his body in front of Sara, blocking Mr. Johnson.

"Mr. Johnson you need to calm down, step back and calm down"

Mr. Johnson kept advancing, ignoring Grissom. Grissom put a firm hand on the tall man's chest, pushing slightly.

"Your going to get yourself arrested if you do not back off right now"

Grissom continued to step forward, keeping his hand on the man's chest putting more distance between Sara and Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson slowly dropped his hands to his sides and stepped right back from both Grissom and Sara taking to his wife's side once again. Grissom turned to Sara and quietly asked if she was ok and with a nod she went to approach Mr. Johnson again, not quite ready to admit defeat.

"Mr. Johnson I know this is a upsetting time for you but I need to know where you where in order to clear you as a suspect"

Mr. Johnson started to grind his teeth

"You know nothing of how I feel"

He said in a dark menacing voice, shaking his head. Putting his head up again looked directly at Sara

"Please get off my property right now, before I lose my temper"

Sara shook her head

"I am afraid that this is a crime scene and until we collect all our evidence and finish our primary interviews, we are staying" Sara stood before Mr. Johnson with an air of defiance, knowing that what she was doing was right. They needed to prove who, if anyone killed this little girl. With speed that could only come from rage and grief, Mr. Johnson swung at Sara connecting with her eye and upper cheekbone, knocking her flat on her back, with a speed that allowed him to move before anyone could react. Before he could advance anymore, one of Brass's men had tackled him too the ground and was cuffing him.

"Bad move mate, really bad move. You are under arrest."

Grissom was busy helping Sara up, who was rubbing her head, which she had knocked bad enough to make the world spin slightly and give her the beginnings of a headache situated just behind her right eye.

"You ok?"

Grissom said as he led her to the front step.

"Yeah I am just fine. Good things always seem to happen to me"

Sara flashed Grissom a contemptuous look her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Stay here. I'll go and get the first aid kit"

Grissom jumped up and went to the back of the truck and returned carrying the red and white kit. Popping it open he retrieved an ice pack and some disprin.

"Put this over your face, and I'll get you a glass of water to take these with"

Sara shook her head and took the disprin swallowing them dry. Leaning against the pillar that welcomed guests by the front steps, Sara tried to distract herself from the pounding that was going on in her head and face.

"Wish I was quick enough to hit him back."

Sara closed her eyes as Grissom fussed over her face, turning her head gently here and there to check for bleeding, and then if her head hadn't hurt so much she would have laughed as Grissom pulled out his little torch and proceeded to check her eyes for damage.

"He should never have hit you, let alone you hit him back. He was upset, though I know that excuse means nothing."

Grissom's fingers had now moved to where she had whacked her head, searching for any bumps. Sara kept her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, till a shock of pain made her gasp.

"Ok well we found the bump. It's not too big, but I think you should head back to headquarters"

Sara shook her head, she wanted to be here for the interviews and no amount of pain was going to stop her finding out what happened to this little girl. Grissom sighed, admitting defeat, knowing that there was no real point arguing with Sara her stubborn streak made for a one sided battle.

"At least sit here a while ok? I don't want a concussion on my shift"

Smiling slightly, Sara nodded slowly, not sure how far she could get away with it till the pain started up again. Grissom gathered up the first aid kit and took it back to the truck, then came and sat beside Sara again, who was opening and closing her jaw, glad to see it was unaffected by the blow.

"You sure you ok?"

Sara winced as she removed the ice from her face

"How bad is it?"

Whether it was the force of the blow or the size of the man that did it, the bruising had already started, with an ugly purple outline starting to show just where she was going to have the shiner, and it reached from the whole way around her eye to level with her right nostril. Her eye had already started to swell considerable as well.

"Actually I have seen worse,"

Grissom told the truth, he had seen worse, just not on a live body. Sara sighed.

"That bad huh?"

Placing the ice back on it she looked at Grissom.

"Do we know just how rich Mr. Johnson is?"

Grissom fished out the papers that Brass had given them from his pocket, and skimming them slowly, he found the info he wanted

"He is worth about 12 million, but he makes more and more everyday with stocks, bonds, and investments."

Sara nodded as much as her injured head would allow

"And who is set to gain the money when he passes on?"

Grissom glanced at the papers again

"Doesn't say, but I will take a guess and presume that it would be the dead little girl. Why?"

Sara looked thoughtfully at Grissom, the pounding in her head subsiding for a split second, as her train of thought distracted her from the pain.

"We have a motive of some sort at least"

When she said no further comment, Grissom didn't push the subject, instead he watched as the coroner's van pulled up, getting ready to take Stacie's body away for autopsy.

"Are you alright to continue the interviews? We just have the step mom and the babysitter left"

Sara stood up as quickly as her body would allow,

"Yep, I'll survive. I just look like I took on Mohammad Ali and lost"

Grinning broadly, she pointed to the front door

"Shall we?"

Grissom bowed slightly at her and walked through the massive entranceway, making his way through the house to the hallway, once there they separated, Sara going to the kitchen, while Grissom continued to the backyard.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Headlights on Dark Roads

Sara entered the huge bright kitchen, which was bigger then her whole apartment, to see a small sobbing figure at the kitchen bar.

"Carla Reid?"

The sobbing form looked up, and nodded at Sara. With short, spiky brown hair with blonde tips, a nose ring, several piercings in her ears and torn jeans paired with an Eminem hoody, the young girl conflicted starkly with the surrounding influences of the house.

"Sara Sidle, CSI"

Holding out her hand, which was shaken loosely, she sat down next to the young girl, whose eyes widened when she saw Sara's face close up.

"W-what happened to your eye?"

Sara smiled

"I asked Mr. Johnson the wrong question"

Carla shook her head, and proceeded to wipe her nose on a tissue in her hand.

"They both have tempers. But Mrs. Johnson is much worse."

Sara got up and retrieved a glass of water for both herself and the young girl.

"Carla do you mind me asking you a few questions about what happened here tonight? I know you have talked to the police but it helps if we hear it from you ok?"

Carla nodded and took a deep breath and started playing with the tattered cuff of her jersey.

"I have been here for two years now. I only got the job because of the fact nobody else wanted it and the money is crap. You would think that with the way that Mr. Johnson makes money they could pay more then five dollars an hour but no. Anyway, I wanted it because I love kids and Stacie and I got on the moment I met her. She has had a hard life and she has such a good personality once you got to know her. She's one of those old souls you know? The kind of kid who just accepted everything apart of what must be done."

Sara nodded slightly and urged her on.

"What happened tonight?"

Silent tears started coming down the girl's cheeks as she remembered the event's that had unfolded.

"Stacie wanted to make something for her dad, but it involved cutting and the scissors are kept in the parent's room, you know for safety. She came and asked me if she could get the scissors from their room and I said yes, but I told her she had to do her cutting in here so that I could watch her, and then she could have her snack at the same time." Carla indicated to the plate that sat on the bench untouched, full of now browning fruit and crackers. "She loved fresh fruit, especially grapes and peaches" Smiling sadly, Carla started tearing up the tissue onto the counter "So I kept getting her snack ready, then just before I went to clear the table, Mrs. Johnston came home, saying that she had forgotten something and she then headed upstairs and a few minutes later I heard this popping sound. Mrs. Johnston came down soon after, saying that Stacie was in trouble and to not bother her. I ran up to her room as soon as she left and Stacie was just laying there!" Carla had now collapsed into sobs again, shaking uncontrollably. Sara touched her hand and reached into her pocket, and produced another tissue for the girl, who crying was starting to cease again. "I just froze. I couldn't think or register what had happened, and then when I finally awoke from my trance, I called the cops." Carla looked at Sara "Do I need to come to the police station? I mean I know I did nothing but do I need to make a statement or whatever?"

Sara nodded

"The police will be in contact with you to get your official statement but otherwise you just need to go home and rest"

Carla shook her head

"Every time I close my eyes, she's there. She was eight for crying out loud! There should never have been a gun in the house, what idiot keeps a gun in a house with small children?"

Carla took a deep shuddering breath and stood up shakily. "Is it ok for me to use the phone? I need to call my mother" Sara pulled her card out of her pocket.

"Sure you can. If you remember anything call me at this number ok?"

Carla nodded

"Thank you"

Sara left Carla to call her mother and went to find Grissom, who was in the back yard with Amy Johnson.

"I told you that I went to get a manicure earlier today. I left Stacie here with Miss Reid, then I came home for like an hour then went to a cocktail party and when I came home Stacie was dead!"

Amy was losing her temper, she had started turning red and she was throwing her arms up and yelling.

"Oh and now here comes the cow that got my husband arrested."

Giving Sara an evil look, she turned back to Grissom, and waited for just a second while Sara lowered her voice and whispered in his ear, her hair falling forward, tickling his cheek and neck. "I still don't understand why you are all here, as far as I can tell it was a accident, a tragic one for all of us, but I really don't see the need for you to still be here" The ice had moved back into her voice and she sounded completely cold again. Ignoring her last comment Grissom moved on with his questions

"Why did you come home?"

Amy looked at Grissom with a huge amount of contempt, like he was the lowest form of human life, and therefore had no right to ask her any questions.

"I forgot something that I needed for the charity event. Why is that a problem?"

Amy shrugged like it was no big deal and fixed Sara and Grissom with a cold hard look

"I have to go back and sort out the mess that your people left."

Without a backwards glance, she turned on her heel and left Sara feeling slightly gob smacked.

"Well that went fantastically well didn't it?"

Grissom sighed, and then made a move back to the front of the house.

"I questioned Carla Reid, and she told me that they both had a hell of a temper, do you think that could mean anything? I mean Mr. Johnson hit me without so much as blinking. And with Ice Queen over there going back to the house…."

Grissom cocked his head slightly

"It might mean something but it could mean nothing. The fact that she was here when the little girl died, does lend to the idea that she could have had a hand in it. But first we check the evidence."

Hating feeling so impatient, but knowing she would have to deal, Sara matched Grissom stride, and they walked in thoughtful silence back to the house.

Catherine, Nick and Warrick met up in the break room to get up to date with the evidence.

"So did you guys find anything interesting at the sight?"

Warrick shook his head while he made them all a coffee

"It was an old site, and combined with the weather, we had nothing"

Nick nodded

"No hairs, no fibers, and what little blood we found was from the victim"

Catherine took the coffee that Warwick handed her and wrapped her hands around it.

"The autopsy didn't really tell us anything new either. She bled to death from four cuts on the main veins. One on her inner thigh, one on the neck and two on the wrists. There was also a skull fracture present, looks like a hit from a flat object, suspect a shovel but like I said, nothing new really"

Nick was adding sugar to his coffee, and reaching for the milk when he stopped

"She was missing for a month right? Do you think he has killed before?"

Warrick shrugged his shoulders.

"The report did say that the cuts were neat and precise. It could mean that he might have had practice or that he is just good at whatever he does. Do we know what school the victim went to?"

Catherine nodded

"Ok then we go from there. Interview parents, friends, teachers and team mates etc"

Warrick finished off his coffee and rinsed out the cup

"How bout we split up? Cath you can take friends and teachers, you being the people person and all. Nick you can take team mates and I will take family and the boyfriend ok?"

Both Catherine and Nick nodded, finished their coffees and got to work.

Approaching Jessica Swaye's parents small neat house, Warrick felt like he had a rock in his stomach, not quite sure what to expect from this interview. This was by far one of the worse parts of his job, talking to the dead person's family was always hard Grief does weird things to people, makes them act in ways that are unusual. As he pulled up alongside the house, his curiosity peaked when he saw the red pick up truck in the driveway.

Knocking on the pale blue front door, he heard footsteps then the door was pulled open by a small balding man answered the door.

"Mr. Swaye? I'm Warrick Brown from CSI; I have come to ask you a few questions about your daughter"

Nick Sawye shook Warrick's hand and motioned him inside.

"Of course, please do come in and call me Nick"

Nodding his understanding, Warwick was lead into the small neat living room, and he sat down on a worn brown couch. Moving away from Warwick and heading to the beginning of the hall to Warrick's left, Nick Swaye took a deep breath and shouted

"Colleen! We have a visitor!"

Then came and sat down opposite Warwick. Within a few seconds, a small compact woman walked in. With shoulder length salt and pepper hair and a small round face, she looked slightly like her husband.

Warwick stood and offered his hand again

"Warwick Brown, CSI, I'm sorry for your loss"

Colleen shook his hand, then took a seat beside her husband

"Do you want anything to drink? Water, OJ, coffee or tea?"

Warwick shook his head

"No thank you Mrs. Swaye"

"Please call me Colleen."

Getting straight down to business, he asked the first thing that had been bugging him.

"Can I ask why there is a pick up truck in the drive way?"

Colleen smiled sadly at Warwick

"Our Jessica has been missing a month, and when she first disappeared, I was looking through her room for clues to where she might have been. And I came across a hand written will. Now I know this is not legal, but it was just what she wanted to happen to her personal belongings. So when I got word that her body had been found, we set about making the things she wanted done. One of which being anything we or her friends didn't want, was to be given to charity. And any money in her accounts was to be given to the RSPCA."

Gripping her husband's hand she kept her voice steady

"I want to respect her wishes"

Nick rubbed his wife's back soothingly, and indicated to the table beside Warwick

"She was a beautiful girl, was our Jessica. But maybe I'm bias"

Smiling widely, he lent over and handed Warwick a picture. From it a pretty girl with long brown hair, intelligent eye's and a wide smile, gazed at him.

"She was everyone's friend. Didn't matter about who or what you where, she was there for you. She was often judged for being like that but I think that it made her a better person"

Looking proud he glanced at his wife

"She was a very good daughter, treated us with the utmost respect even though she was nineteen"

Warrick nodded

"On the last day you saw Jessica, how was she? Was everything going ok?"

Colleen smiled, and nodded

"Her basketball team where on a winning streak and talent scouts where at almost every game, school was going good, with the midterms finally done and her relationship with Mark was becoming more serious. They had been talking about getting married, having a family together. She had it all in front of her."

Colleen was picking absentmindedly at a loose piece of thread on her apron, twisting it around her fore finger.

"At least she was happy when she left us. That makes it a tiny bit easier on us"

Silent tears where falling down her round cheeks onto her now slightly wrinkled apron.

"The police told us that, she was unconscious when that… animal hurt her the way he did, she would never had felt anything. Mr. Brown, is that true? She would have felt nothing?"

Warrick shook his head defiantly

"No she would have been… sleeping is the word that I would use"

Nick was now also crying quietly beside his wife

"It never gets any easier. I keep expecting her to walk through the door, saying she just went on a road trip and forgot to tell us"

Shaking his head he cleared his throat and stood up from the couch

"Excuse me for a moment"

He walked stiffly from the room, leaving Warwick with Colleen.

"I know that the cops have properly been up there already, but would you mind terribly if I went up to Jessica's room and had a look for myself?"

Colleen stood up and nodded

"Of course. A few things have gone, like her guitar and her posters but her computer and basically everything else is there"

She led Warrick through the kitchen and down another hall, where to his right, he was faced with a lavender room

"I'll be in the kitchen, just has a poke around if you have any questions you know where I am"

With a small smile she was gone. Warwick walked to the center of the room and had a slow look around, trying to find anything that might stick out. Finding nothing he settled for taking up Colleen's invite for poking around. On a large dresser table near the bed, a quite a few framed photos of her basketball team. On a mirror above that there were pictures of her friends cut out and plastered all over the mirror, in the center a picture of a young handsome boy had love heart stickers all around it. Presuming it was a picture of her boyfriend Mark Wester, Warwick tucked it into an evidence bag, meaning to ask before he left if he could borrow it. On the top of the dresser a variety of make up, hair brushes, combs and hair clips covered the top of the dresser to the point where the top could not be seen unless you moved it over slightly. Upon doing this Warwick spotted a small square white piece of paper. Putting on a latex glove quickly, he picked it up and carefully opened it with his gloved hand:

_Loved the game. You have real talent for someone of your age. _

_If you interested in going further, give me a call._

_555-8236_

_Skylar Felton_

_Skylar Felton? Better pass that name onto Catherine _Warrick made a mental note to himself before taking another glance around the room. When nothing jumped out at him, he decided to call it a day and leave the Swaye's to move their daughter's belongings in peace.

Catherine was waiting in the Dean's office at Yale University when her cell phone rang loudly in her front pocket. Flipping it open with a faint click she spoke briskly

"Willows. Oh hi Warrick, how are you doing? Yeah just sitting in the principles office getting a sense of de javu is all. What's up? A note? Ok what's the name again? Skylar Felton… yep ok got it, yeah meet you back at the office"

Hanging up before he could answer, she heard a creak behind her as the door to the office swung open.

"Miss Willows how are you? I'm Dean Palmers"

A tall intimidating dark haired man held out his hand all the while wearing a smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. Making his way around the desk to the very comfortable looking leather chair sitting royally behind it, he made himself comfortable before he spoke again

"How can I help you today?"

Catherine sat back in her chair

"I am here in connection to the death of Jessica Swaye"

The Dean put his elbows on his smooth polished desk, putting his hands together, looking almost as if she was praying.

"Yes that was a true tragedy for both her family and the school combined."

Trying to look sad, Catherine suspected that the only thing he thought was a tragedy was how his prize winning basketball team would be affected by Jessica's demise.

"I wanted to meet with you to discuss the possibility of talking to some of the other students, teachers, and friends who knew Jessica"

The dean nodded his head slowly

"I need you to understand that the school is already full to the brim with rumors about what happened to Jessica, getting them stressed and over excited. All I ask is that you don't hand over any details that are not completely required"

Catherine nodded

"Of course sir. I will use the utmost discretion"

The Dean stood up and offered his hand to Catherine

"Thank you for your consideration. If that is all Miss Willow's, I have students and worried parents to see. If you ask my receptionist's she can provide you with the information you require"

Indicating to the door with his head, he shook Catherine's hand then sat back down and started shifting through papers that sat on his desk.

_Thanks for nothing. _Catherine thought to herself as she turned on her heel and left the room. Heading towards the receptionist desk, Catherine cleared her throat, gaining a very annoyed glance from elderly women, who remotely resembled a toad, with bulgy eyes and a wide mouth.

Raising her eyebrow she fixed Catherine with a glare that would make Grissom sweat

"Can I help you?"

She continued to stare at Catherine coldly, her lips puckered, making her look as though she had found something distasteful on the bottom of her shoe.

"Dean Palmers said that you would be able to supply me with lists of teachers and teammates that Jessica Swaye had?"

The women turned back to her computer, tapped a few keys, turned to a printer situated close by and handed over a few papers to Catherine. Without so much of a backward glance, she turned back to her computer and resumed her typing.

"Thanks"

Catherine turned on her heel, skimming the papers as she headed towards the campus coffee shop to meet Nick.

As Catherine and Nick sat in the coffee shop going over the papers, they where interrupted when a young blonde girl brought over their drinks

"One cappuccino and one caramel frappacino"

Carefully laying the drinks on the table, she glanced at Catherine.

"Are you guy's here about Jessica?"

Catherine nodded

"Did you know her?"

Taking a seat beside Catherine, the girl glanced towards the counter

"I only have a couple of minutes, we are quite busy today. Yeah I knew Jessica. She worked here a couple of days a week till she got fired"

Nick glanced at Catherine

"Fired?"

The girl nodded

"That boyfriend of hers kept hanging around demanding free coffee, you know because she was his girlfriend, and when the boss confronted him about it she jumped to his defense saying that if he was going to kick him out he would have to fire her, and well he did"

Nick pulled a pen from his front pocket.

"What's your name?"

The girl smiled

"Sorry I should have introduced myself. Kathie James"

Kathie jumped up from the stool she had been sitting on and, turned to Catherine

"I had better go, the boss will ask questions, but if you need to talk to me anymore, I'm here five days a week. I have the weekends off. Seeya"

With a small wave she hurried off to clear some tables.

Catherine turned to Nick, who was putting sugar into his cappuccino

"Well that was completely unexpected. How the heck did she know who we were?"

Nick smiled broadly at Catherine

"If you hadn't noticed, dressed in the clothes we are compared to the other students, we can only be teachers or cops. She must have put two and two together"

Taking a deep swallow of her caramel frappacino, she closed her eyes as the sugar and caffeine filled her blood stream.

"I so needed that"

Half an hour later, having finished their coffee's and given their card to Kathie, they separated, Catherine heading to the English building while Nick headed for the gym, agreeing to meet up in two hours time, before all the classes finished.

"Ok girls, I want 20 laps done, get running!!"

Nick swung open the door to the gymnasium, getting a nice big whiff of sweat and court polish. Moving towards the large incredibly muscular women, whom he assumed was the coach, he stuffed the school map and the info Catherine had given him into his pocket

"Miss Emily Parkinson?"

The short, muscular lady turned to face Nick

"Yes?"

Holding out his hand he introduced himself

"Nick Stokes, CSI. I have come to ask some questions regarding Jessica Swaye."

Shaking his hand with a vice like grip, the older woman smiled sadly

"She was a great kid. Such potential, such a waste. How can I help you?"  
Nick glanced at the court, where the girls where running laps, with long practiced strides.

"I need to talk to her teammates, if that's alright with you. If it makes it easier I can take them one at a time."

Miss Parkinson nodded, then turning her eyes back to the court; she blew loudly into the whistle hanging from her neck.

"Ok girls take a seat on the floor for a second will you?"

Relieved sighs echoed around the court bouncing off the walls getting back to the coach

"You will get back to running your laps in a moment, so don't worry"

Smiling happily, she watched as the twelve players sat down, all of them taking interested glances at Nick. Once they where all sitting down and it was relatively quiet, she started to speak.

"This gentleman here is Nick Stokes from CSI. He wants to speak to you girls about Jessica. He is going to call you up one at a time, alphabetically while the rest of you can do laps till your names are called"

Glancing at Nick, Miss Parkinson motioned to the group

"They are all yours"

Taking the piece of paper from his pocket he quickly glanced over the names.

"Faith Ayden?"

Lifting his head, he saw a tall lanky girl step forward, motioning to the bleachers he lead her to a relatively quite spot, while the others where made to do laps again.

"So Faith how long have you been on the team?"

With long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, defined muscles that could only come from sport and height that would rival Sara's, Nick was not at all surprised by the career choice.

"A year now, but I have been on the same team as Jessica since high school"

Her voice was tight and her hands were twisting each other. Nick nodded and indicated to the team that was still running around the court

"So have you all known each other for a while? Did you all go to the same school?"

Faith shook her head, and her ponytail swung merrily

"Nope half of the girls went to the high schools across the city. I have even played some of these girls at games before we all came here"

Faith had raised her head and was now watching the girl's strides. Nick watched her for a little noting the sadness in her eyes before he continued.

"Are you all aiming to make it into the pros?"

Faith cocked her head towards her coach

"Coach thinks we are but I am studying to have a back up, so many players have retired early from bad knees and I wanna be prepared for that and I'm on a scholarship, so if my grades fall I have to leave. The female pro's basketball is so hard to get into, you need to be the best, and Coach wants us all to push till we can't get anything else from ourselves"

Nick frowned sympathetically

"Must be tough"

Faith nodded then smiled

"But as much as we moan and complain we all love the game and love feeling like we do at the end of each training session. Most of us have never known any different. Life revolves around basketball. It is a lot tougher for women to break into the pros then it is for men."

Nick smiled

"I have to agree with you there. But it must feel good when you know that you've made it, no matter what sex you are."

Faith nodded again, smiling in response to Nick's encouraging grin.

"Would you be able to tell me about how Jessica interacted with the team? Did she get on with everyone?"

Faith thought for a second

"There where some small conflicts when we all first started here, before we got settled into a team, but otherwise, no"

Nick cocked his head slightly

"Who did she conflict with?"

Faith pointed to a pretty girl laughing with some of the other teammates

"Scarlette Walker. They both applied for the same position on the team but Jessica won out because she had more experience"

Faith was playing with the hem of her blue shirt before she looked at Nick again

"She is Jessica's replacement now, and ever since Jessica disappeared we have had her as our leader, and she sucks at it. She expects everyone to bow down to her, like she is royalty."

Faith smiled bitterly "I wish Jessica was back, when she left so did our team morale. We where together for a year before she disappeared, we had gotten in sync with each other you know? We knew where everyone stood for ability's and we all knew who was boss and now we are in shambles."

Nick watched as the girls, who were meant to be doing steady laps, were now striding in an easy movement, pushing themselves only when they were spotted by their Coach. Turning back to Faith, he watched as she kept shooting evil looks at Scarlette.

"Where you and Jessica close?"

Faith smirked

"No, not friends wise. She hung out with a different crowd all through high school, and hangs out with the in crowd now. We are close because of the game and that's it. Off the court, no way."

Nick smiled

"One of those friends huh? Plenty of those here I would say,"

He indicated to the court and Faith nodded enthusiastically

"Yeah. You would never catch any of these girls together off the court. Apart from myself and Amy, we are pretty tight, otherwise no."

"Thank you for your help Faith."

Faith stood up

"No problem, seeya later"

Running back to the court, she went back to her laps, her ponytail flying behind her. Stepping back to courtside, he waited for the coach to grab the next girl for questioning.

Stretching her arms above her head, Sara sighed heavily. Fighting back a yawn, she went to find Greg Sanders the lab tech wanna be CSI, to see if he had her results back yet, she wanted the information from the evidence collected at the scene. Following the loud pounding music to the lab, she swung open the door to Garbage, playing so loudly that Greg, who was doing an interesting imitation of an air guitar, never heard her come in. Watching him thrust his hips and throw his head around in a manic fashion, having a great time brought a much-needed smile to her face. Greg was one of the most relaxed people Sara had ever met, and he often brought much-needed comic relief to the night shift. But the great thing about Greg was he did his job as well as he played the joker, even Grissom had to admit that. Reaching over, she switched off the CD player and Greg turned to Sara mid arm swing, grinning in the deafening silence.

"New CD. I have done the work you wanted so I thought I would give it a listen."

Straightening his lab coat and running his hand over his spiked hair, he stopped mid run and his jaw dropped

"What the hell happened to your eye?"

Sara shrugged

"Ask the wrong question get a wrong answer"

He handed over the sheet of paper with all the info on it, still looking at Sara's eye.

"Don't get too excited, there is nothing that you don't already know on that piece of paper. All the hairs and fibers you found match with the surroundings. You found the gun yet?"

Sara shook her head slightly, still very aware of her head. Greg nodded and held onto the neck of his coat

"I guess you need some little mystery for you to solve. Have you been to the autopsy?"

Sara smiled at Greg

"Nope gotta go and find Grissom first, he's run away again. I was hoping to get a shower in, I feel off after being at that crime scene."

Greg smiled sadly

"You ok? I mean its a little kid, I even had trouble doing the lab stuff, let alone the actually scene."

"I'm ok it's just something you have to do with this job. It goes hand and hand with first autopsy and first mass murder. It's another thing to do, but I am glad that parts over. Now we just need to figure out what happened"

Heading back to the door she smiled at Greg again, pausing when he made a stop sign with his hand.

"Hold on a second, you look like you need one of these."

He ducked behind a small shelf, reaching into the small fridge under it, handing Sara a bottle.

"It's a new energy drink on the market. And let me tell you it rocks. I have had three bottles already, even though you're only meant to have one a day. But I figured special job calls for special circumstances."

Sara smiled kindly at him, and took a small sip of the dark fluid in the bright green bottle. The caffeine hit her instantly, the sharp taste awakening her senses and her mind.

"This stuff's good. Thanks Greg."

Greg smiled widely, moving back into his chair.

"Happy to be of service. I have plenty here if you feel like another one later"

Sara nodded and turned her back to Greg, throwing over her shoulder,

"As you were"

She hit the play button on the CD player, resuming the loud, thumping base. As the music faded slightly as she got further down the corridor towards Grissom's office, she was looking more and more forward to that shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three - Nobody's Listening

Knocking quietly, Sara opened the door to Grissom's office and was instantly transformed into another world. Grissom was an avid bug fan. Literally. He studied bugs and was more often then not referred to as "The Bug Man" His office was filled with jarred specimens from piglets to snakes. Bug books where piled high and there where bug boards on the walls. Amongst all the controlled chaos sat Grissom eating a sandwich, with a small pile of chocolate crickets beside him.

"Turns out that the only fibers found were the ones that match the scene, no others at all"

Handing the piece of paper that Greg had given her over to Grissom she sat heavily into the small leather chair on the other side of the desk, resting her feet on the chair next to hers, taking another sip out of the green bottle.

"It reads like a fairytale. Evil stepmother, poor little rich girl and parents in need of an anger management class. Unfortunately there is no Prince Charming at the end of this tale."

She hung her head back and tried to not think of that poor girl's body laying on the floor. She heard Grissom shift out of his chair and felt him approach her side. She sat up properly and found him kneeling beside the chair

"How's the eye?"

Sara shrugged

"Sore but the headache is gone. That is a definite up side"

Grissom reached over her to get to his desk again and handed her a brown bag.

"What's this?"

She opened the bag and found a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some chocolate chip cookies.

"When did you make the sandwich?"

He smiled

"Made it while you weren't looking. Eat up, we have an autopsy to go to and after this morning you need your strength."

He went back round to his desk and watched as Sara dug into her sandwich.

"You know those energy drinks are not good for you."

Sara glanced at the green bottle, still mostly full, that she had placed on Grissom's desk.

"Yeah and as if that coffee is any better. It actually tastes quite good. You're welcome to have a sip."

Grissom shook his head, and took another sip from his coffee mug, watching Sara demolish the sandwich and cookies.

"This is the best sandwich ever. Thank you, much appreciated."

She had another huge bite of sandwich, not bothering with manners at this point of the night. They finished their respective sandwiches and packed up the rubbish.

"Oh Grissom do you think I could grab a quick shower before the autopsy? After today, I could really do with one"

Grissom nodded

"Just as long as it's quick. I think we are ahead of schedule today anyway"

Smiling gratefully, and feeling happier thanks to the food, she nabbed the bottle of drink off of Grissom's desk, she left quickly and headed for the locker room, finishing the drink along the way, throwing the empty bottle into a rubbish bin before she entered the locker room. Grabbing her shower bag and the change of clothes she always kept in the locker, she headed for the furtherest shower stall. Switching it on full blast, she stripped and stepped under the stream of hot water, glad to wash the day away. Giving her body a quick wash then her hair, she was in and out and ready to go within twenty minutes and got to the autopsy the same time as Grissom. Looking very surprised, he opened the door for her. As she walked past he got a whiff of her shampoo, which smelt like apple and cinnamon, and his head swam. Shaking his head he brought himself back to focus.

"You have got to be the quickest female to shower on record."

Grissom looked at his watch

"You took less then three hours! Well done!"

Smirking as they headed to the table Sara greeted Doc with a quick grin

"Hey"

He nodded his welcome and pulled the sheet off Stacie's body.

"This little girl has been through so much in her eight years"

Looking sadly at the body, he pointed to the x-rays on the lighting display.

"She has been severally abused most of her life by the looks of the x-rays. Broken arm, broken ribs, a fractured jaw, broken legs… The list is long and very extensive."

He came to stand beside Sara who was studying the x-rays of the girls face

"Her parents have both got really terrible tempers; I got my black eye care of her father"

Doc had a quick glance at her face and then moved back to the body.

"And you're twice the size of this little one and look what he did to you. The gunshot was clean, killed her instantly. The residue on her hands here indicates that she did indeed shoot it herself."

He held up a hand when he saw Sara open her mouth to protest.

"Let me finish. Either she shot herself or her hands were around the gun if someone else did this to her. Because for this to happen the way it has, they would need to have their hands wrapped around little Stacie's. Here let me show you."

He held his hand out for Sara's gun, and waited patiently while she emptied out the bullets and handed it over to him. He pointed the gun at himself, trying to imitate the way that Stacie would have held the gun.

"Now Sara, wrap your hands around mine in a way where you can access my trigger finger, but avoid touching the gun."

When she had done this he smiled and nodded at Sara.

"If it was done this way, then this is how awkward this stance would be."

He handed Sara back her gun and then turned back to the body. He turned the little body onto her side and pointed to the back of what was left of her head.

"I found the bullet still lodged side on, hanging by a bit of skull, and there is something you need to see"

Placing the body gently down he walked over to his desk where in a small pertrie disk sat a bullet.

"Now I know a little about guns so tell me if I'm wrong ok? Bullet's that have been marked in any way after they are made, like say you took it home and carved your name in it, would make generally more mess then if it was left alone, correct?"

Both Sara and Grissom nodded in unison, wanting to know where this was headed

"Well if you look careful at this bullet, you will find out why that poor girl laying there is missing half of her skull"

Moving back so that they could look, he waited while they examined the bullet

"He's carved a cross into the top of the bullet! No wonder her head was in such a state."

Sara was staring at wonder at the bullet, waiting for Grissom to say something.

"Well that would explain the exist wound and why the wound was so severe."

He moved back to the body of Stacie

"What else can you tell us? If we go to the parents with evidence of abuse they will blame the sitter, do have anything to prove it was an adult?"

Doc moved back to the body with Sara following suit.

"After death bruising shows up more readily on a body, especially fresh bruises. She has them all over her back, some on her stomach and on the backs of her legs. The hand marks where made by an adult, no doubt. Other then that there is nothing to tell that you already don't know. Death was caused by a single gunshot, obtained to the area just above the right eyebrow"

Taking the report that Doc handed her Sara could hardly believe what she was hearing. They had nothing new apart from the abuse now it was a matter of seeing where that trail took them.

"Oh and you will be happy to know that there is no evidence of sexual abuse"

Though it did make a difference, it still seemed like a waste when there was nothing new. As they left the autopsy room heading back to Grissom's office, Sara was trying to piece together the puzzle that they now had in front of them, trying to figure out the many missing pieces. Throwing up her hands out of sheer frustration she vented on Grissom

"I'm at a loss of where to go from here. We have a little girl dead, three suspects but only one of them is getting closer to being cleared but the pieces still don't fit, no matter where I put them"

Grissom stopped mid-stride and turned to face Sara, his voice hard.

"You need to focus, Sara. We have the body and now we need the Corpus Delicti…. the body of the offence. Stay focused and don't let your emotions get the better of you."

Turning abruptly on his heel, he left Sara leaning against the hall wall feeling slightly phased. If the one man that could be relied on to stay on focus without losing himself lost his temper, did just that, something was seriously wrong.Shaking her head slightly she headed for the break room, fully intending to take her shoes off and have a few minutes to herself, hopefully a clue might pop up about the case. Upon entering the room, she discovered Grissom who was leaning against the bench his head pressed against the cupboard above it. Not wanting to disturb any possible thinking that might be going on, she quietly slipped towards the couch, sitting and gratefully taking off her shoes, massaging her feet, enjoying the sensation as the blood circulated around her toes again.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you before. You do need to focus Sara, but I could have said it more diplomatically"

His voice was muffled barely audible

"That's ok, you where right. It's just frustrating when cases aren't as open and close as you want them too be."

Sara yawned widely, glancing at Grissom as she was struck with concern.

"Are you alright?"

Moving towards him when no answer came, she made her way to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder and was shocked to find how tight his shoulder was, and how shallowly he was breathing.

"I have a pounding headache. Your right when you said there is no way to glue this puzzle together. Why is it that this case is making me feel so awful? I mean we have had other child cases and I sure didn't react like this."

Turning to Sara he offered a sad smile and took off his glasses and started cleaning them.

"Maybe it's the step mother. She is so cold, like she doesn't even care. I want to hit her and see what happens."

Grissom shook his head, a small grimace on his face.

"A law suit, that's what would happen. You know how I keep telling you to focus on the evidence and not on how you feel or what your gut tries to tell you?"

Sara nodded, keeping her hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort she could.

"Yeah well I should really take a page out of my own book. I want to pin this on the mother more then anything else in the world. I want her to go down for this."

Sara raised her eyebrows, her eyes wide.

"Wow. That's great. Not that you want to get the stepmother but that you're feeling the way you do. It keeps you human, makes sure you keep doing this job for the right reason. You had me doubting your humanity for a little while there."

Grissom put his glasses back on and moved towards the couch, slipping away from Sara's hand.

"It's Stacie. This case, this little girl has gotten under my skin. I don't know how to shake it."

Sara sat beside him on the couch, trying to not let the knowledge of the fact that Grissom was opening up to her overwhelm the fact that they had to sort out this case.

"I guess that leaves me to step into the Gil Grissom shoes."

She cleared her throat slightly, and dropped her voice several octaves, making it as deep as she could.

"We need to focus on what is important; the evidence. That is the one thing that doesn't lie or make false statements."

Grissom smiled slightly at Sara.

"Do I really sound like that?"

Sara laughed.

"Yep, sure do. Now finish your drink, we have work to do."

* * *

Catherine finally arrived at the English building and having been directed by a passing student, was now standing in front of Jessica's old English classroom. Knocking loudly, she waited for the 'Enter' before she stepped inside. As she walked in all eyes of the thirty or so students where on her, and she made her way to where the teacher was standing

"Mrs. Bilker? I'm Catherine Willows and I was wondering if I could take a few moments of your time to discuss Jessica Swaye?"

Shaking hands with the older looking teacher, a wave of hushed whispering had swept over the classroom.

"But of course. Class, continue with your essay on the controversy of Heda Gabler. I want clear statments on whether she was carzy or a victim of her time."

Leading the way back out the door, Catherine waited until the door was closed behind them before she spoke.

"I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of classes, but the case with Jessica has been reopened since her body was discovered in the desert"

Putting a hand over her mouth, Mrs. Bilker breathed in sharply

"So it was true then? There was a rumor going around but I didn't think that there was any truth to it"

Catherine nodded sadly, giving the women a moment to absorb the information, studying her while she waited. The English teacher was short, with large horn rimmed glasses, with a sharp pointed nose and tight thin lips. Her looks betrayed her personality though because when she spoke it was with a warm friendly tone.

"I just wanted to know what kind of student Jessica was, grade wise and how she interacted with the other students. I also want to know if any of these people are in this class"

Handing over the list of friends to Mrs. Bilker, Catherine waited while she read down the list.

"Anna Jason, Emmanuel Jacobson and Dale Wilcox are in this class but that's it."

Handing the list back to Catherine, she pushed a piece of escaped hair off her face.

"Jessica was a good student. She was a bit obsessed with her sport but she wanted a back up in case it would not work out. Interacting wise, she was hard to get to know. She was really cold to those who weren't in her social circle."

Catherine wore a puzzled expression as she absorbed this information

"Our sources told us that she was good friends with people all over the show, not just a set group"

Mrs. Bilker shook her head

"Nope, she pretty much stuck with a certain clique. Sad how things don't change when they get to college. Did you want to speak to those three students?"

Nodding, Catherine followed Mrs. Bilker back into the classroom.

"Can I please have everyone's attention please? Anna, Dale and Emmanuel, could you please come outside for a moment? The rest of you back to work."

Indicating for the three students to follow her, she led them back outside and introduced them to Catherine. Anna Jason was of medium height with blonde hair so short that it was almost non-existent. With one piercing in her nose, and heavily made up eyes and lips, she looked like the opposite of what Jessica's friends would look like. Dale Parsons and Emmanuel Perry where the same kind of muscular build, with strong jaws and tattoos. Dale had long blonde hair tied back while Emmanuel had short brown hair spiked slightly, and a lanky frame that seemed to fold over itself.

"We heard that Jessica's body was found, is that true?"

Catherine nodded as Anna examined her nails, and didn't look particularly concerned by the news. Turning to the two young men, she noted the same kind of looks from them.

"Where you three close to Jessica?"

Anna smirked shaking her head.

"Jessica dropped us after the first six months of being here because we had changed. That's what she said anyway but I think it was because of the new group she was hanging with. The cool kids. It's like being in high school again"

Rolling her eyes, and looking utterly disgusted she indicated to the tallest of the young men.

"Dale used to go out with her. They went out all through high school, and then once we got here she dumped him. He obviously no longer fit into her long term plans"

Both of the men looked highly bored but they looked up when Dale was mentioned.

"Dale, do you know what changed Jessica?"

Catherine hopped that her guess over who was who was right. And in the end it was. Playing with the cuff of his leather jacket, he looked at Catherine with suspicion.

"No idea. We where going great, then like Anna said, we got here and that was the end of that. No explanation at all"

He snapped his fingers, as though to indicate what happened. Catherine nodded then asked one last question that had been bugging her.

"Do any of you know or have ever heard of a person called Skylar Felton?"

Glancing at the others Anna looked up at Catherine and shook her head.

"Nope, can't help you there"

As Catherine headed to Jessica's next class on the list, it was bugging her how those three reacted to the name. Who was this person?

Jumping slightly as her cell phone ringing pulled her from her daydream, she snapped it open

"Willows. Oh hey Brass…. Oh crap your kidding me? Damn it! Ok I'll get Nick you call Warrick meet you there soon"

Hanging up quickly she speed dialed Nick's number

"Hey Nicky it's Cath. We have another body on our hands. Same MO, we must move. Meet you at the truck"

Snapping her phone closed, Catherine turned on her heel and made her way back to the truck.

* * *

Snapping awake, Sara sat up quickly and realized her mistake. Her head pounded and her teeth chattered from the pain. Making her way to the cupboard over the kitchenette; she opened it praying that there would be some painkillers there. Sighing appreciatively when she saw the pills in their silver packaging, she took a deep swallow of water to wash them down. Feeling slightly more human she looked at her watch, satisfied that she had gotten at least two hours sleep. Sitting back down on the couch, she quickly put her boots back on feeling more energized. Leaving the break room she ran into Greg, who smiled broadly at her.

"Been asleep huh?"

Brushing past her, Sara watched him go, having no idea what he was talking about. Heading further into the hall, she passed some reflective glass, where she realized what Greg had caused the sleep comment. Her hair was stuck up slightly on one side, her now very purple eye looked horrid and what little make up she was wearing was now smudged. She snarled at her reflection, her mood falling back into the slumps. Making a slight detour she headed to her locker and brushed her hair and removed her make up, opting instead for a touch of the strawberry lip-gloss that she kept in her locker and then sighed heavily knowing there was nothing to be done about her now extremely obvious black eye. Walking quickly she arrived at Grissom's office in time; he was just about to leave. Seeing Sara, he winced

"It looks worse"

His hand drifted up almost coming to rest on her face. He changed his mind last minute, his hand veering off until it was resting at his side again. He would not allow himself to touch her, the ripple effects would be more then he could handle.

"I know. Anything new?"

Grissom reopened his office door and sat back behind the desk.

"Turns out the heir to the Johnson fortune are no other then Stacie. And upon Stacie's death, Amy would get the lot. You know that during the nineteen hundreds a guy called Cesare Lombroso developed this theory that every criminal fits a basic profile. They seem almost ape like, with strong jaws, wide forehead, long arms and big ears"

Sara nodded waiting impatiently for the point of this fact that Grissom had a habit of sprouting.

"I always found it fascinating how in the past everybody thought that people of a certain stature or background were always criminals. Absolutely amazing"

He said the last words almost to himself, under his breath and then looking completely satisfied with himself, like he discovered the cure for a terminal illness; he sat back and waited for a reaction from Sara. Nodding and smiling, finding it safer to do this then comment, she chose a safe topic.

"So are we going to interview Mr. Johnson?"

Grissom glanced at the clock mounted above the fish board hanging on his wall.

"Yep which reminds me, we should be getting over there now, he'll be waiting for us. Grab those x-rays for me, will you? This is our evidence of abuse"

Walking briskly out of his office, Sara matched his stride. Upon entering the interview room, the found a very mad Mr. Johnson trying to throw the table across the room, while Brass was trying unsuccessfully to calm him down. Two officers pushed past Sara and Grissom, grabbing Mr. Johnson roughly; they handcuffed him and pushed him into a chair.

"You are a treading a fine line Mr. Johnson. Cross it and your asking for trouble"

Without a backwards glance at Mr. Johnson, Brass stepped past Sara and Grissom

"He's all yours"

Mr. Johnson gritted his teeth when he saw Sara

"Here comes the bitch that caused all of this."

Sara chose to ignore the comment as she and Grissom sat in the chairs across from him, telling herself that it was grief that was making him say this.

"We still need to know where you were when your daughter was killed. We need to discount you as a suspect"

Grissom spoke in an even, calm voice, quietly waiting for him to respond.

"I was playing golf. Then I had a few drinks. I gave my lawyer a list of names of the people that were there with me"

Grissom took a quick glance around the room then looked back at Mr. Johnson, who was busy staring at Sara with a look of complete contempt.

"And where is your lawyer? He should be here"

Finally tearing his eyes from Sara long enough to give Grissom a quick glance.

"I have nothing to hide"

He said simply, glaring at Grissom, daring him to object.

"Our sources tell us you and your wife both have horrific tempers."

Mr. Johnson stood up and shoved his face in Grissom's

"If your source is that babysitter of ours then you are sadly mistaken"

Grissom calmly stared at him

"That and your daughter told us a lot as well"

Mr. Johnson sat heavily back onto his seat, his face becoming suddenly pale

"What do you mean my daughter spoke to you? My daughter's dead… she's dead"

Sara watched as realization dawned on Mr. Johnson

"Are you saying that someone was hitting her?"

Sara took the x-rays that she had been holding and put them on the table. Wordlessly, Mr. Johnson took the x-rays from the envelope and held them towards what little light was in the room, and started crying.

"These x-rays show that she has had numerous broken bones and fractures. When her body was examined, she was covered in bruises."

Mr. Johnson put the x-rays back into the envelope and looked at Grissom

"I never touched my daughter and neither did my wife. Stacie was a klutz, always was. She was forever tripping and falling over."

Grissom waited until Mr. Johnson was sitting down again before he spoke.

"So that may explain the broken bones but it does not explain the hand shaped bruises"

"Sometimes Stacie was a handful. Mostly it was after her mother died, but more recently she had been pushing and pushing Amy. I never saw Amy hit her but I know that Amy wanted to send Stacie away to a boarding school the moment she was nine. She got really mad when I didn't want that to happen"

Sara was starting to pace the room, circling Mr. Johnson and Grissom

"So you yourself never hit Stacie?"

There was complete and utter disbelief in her voice, daring him to say no.

"I may have hit her once or twice, but what parent doesn't? Since when did smacking your child become against the law?"

Sara smirked a little to Grissom, behind Mr. Johnson's back

"There is a very fine line between spanking and beating and I am afraid that someone in that house crossed that line. Broken bones and fractures don't just appear. And it would take a huge fall to break bones in a healthy child."

Sara kept pacing, getting more and more frustrated with this idiot.

"So the evidence says that Stacie died from a gunshot, from a gun that was conveniently left where Stacie could see it. But you didn't count on your daughter taking it did you?"

Sara had now stopped pacing and was back in her seat next to Grissom.

"So the question is who is telling the truth? You or the evidence? And since you have nothing to hide, could we please have a sample of your hand and finger prints?"

After an hour of questioning, Sara and Grissom left the room with nothing but the same story ringing through their heads. Without saying a word they headed for the next room, where Amy Johnson was waiting for them. Wearing a red dress and yet another lot of pearls, she looked up coldly when Sara and Grissom entered the room. Sitting to the left of her was a small round man with glasses, looking through the papers that where given to him about this case.

"Before any questions are given to my client, I would like to point out that any badgering of her would cause me to extract her from the room. Keep the questions simple, to the point and we will have no problem"

His voice was rather high pitched, and he was sweating profusely, looking extremely nervous about the whole situation. Grissom waited patiently till the man finished his speech and then dove into his own.

"I will ask the questions that are nessacery to this case, and whether or not they upset your client, because as much as she wants it to be, this is not about her. It's about finding justice for the little girl that is lying cold and dead in one of our fridges. And who might you be, by the way?"

The fat little man quickly wiped his hand on his pants leaving a damp smear on the smooth fabric, before offering it to Grissom.

"John Brightly, attorney with Brightly and Sons. Shall we get on with this interview?"

Nodding curtly he glanced at Sara and then back to Grissom

"Who is this?

"This is one of my CSI team. She is helping me on this case"

Turning back to Amy Johnson, Grissom got right down to business

"Were you abusing your step daughter?"

For a millisecond, a small look of shock showed through the cold mask that was her face, before she slipped it back on.

"No I was not. Is this whole thing going to be filled with more foolish questions that I have to waste my time answering, because I have things that I could be doing right now."

Sara and Grissom sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, not quite sure how to take this women's statement, then with venom in her voice, Sara spoke up.

"This is not a waste of time. In case you didn't notice, your stepdaughter is dead, and you are acting like nothing has happened. At the moment you and your husband are prime suspects, and our evidence is pointing to murder, not a mere accident"

Looking slightly flushed, Sara glanced at Grissom, and took a deep breath when he nodded in agreement. Amy Johnson was busy whispering in her lawyer's ear, while he nodded and held out his hand when Grissom tried to speak.

"My client is willing to give another few minutes of her time before she goes"

Mrs. Johnson sat back smugly in her chair in a self assured manner while she awaited Grissom's next move. Indicating to the officer standing in the corner of the room, Grissom pulled him down so he could whisper in his ear. Exiting with a nod to Grissom, he closed the door quietly behind him.

"All we want to know is if you had ever hit Stacie before. Your husband has all ready said he previously had"

Sara watched as the older women turned her head slowly towards her, reminding Sara of that scene in the Exorcist when the little girl's head spins on her shoulders in a slow, creepy manner, curled her lip and said

"How's the eye?"

Smirking slightly she turned back to staring at the wall while Sara was busy biting her lip to control her temper. Before anyone could say anything more, the officer, followed by Brass, re-entered the room. Grinning widely he sat down across from Amy, while the officer went back to standing quietly in the corner.

"How long have you been a lawyer?"

Brass turned to the balding man beside Amy

"About two years"

Nodding Brass turned back to Amy

"I hate to be the one to tell you this but as far as the law is concerned you stay here until these good people are finished with you"

Gesturing with his thumb, he indicated Sara and Grissom sitting at his side.

"We have x-rays that indicate many broken bones and also fresh bruises we found all over Stacie's body, including hand prints. Adult hand prints"

Pulling the x-rays from the envelope, Sara placed the x-rays on the table, along with some pictures of all the bruises on the little girl's body and sat back, waiting for a reaction from the cold women. None came. She glanced quickly at the pictures then back at Sara

"And your point is?"

Grissom glanced at Sara and saw the anger rising again in her face, the soft pink blush slowly turning into a vibrant red. Time to pull out. Looking at Brass, he nodded. Brass put a hand into his jacket and with a smile, he pulled out a warrant.

"We need a sample of your DNA, hand and finger prints. It's all covered in here"

Grabbing it from Brass, Amy lawyer glanced it over and nodded at her.

"It's legit."

Fuming silently beside Grissom, Sara was now smiling. If they where going to pin this on her, there was no better way then DNA.

* * *

Arriving back at the same desert area that they had found Jessica Swaye previously, they followed a police officer to the crime scene. Laid out like Jessica and unexpectanltly exposed by the elements as she had been, the body lay in a shallow grave. Decomposition was evident by the maggots and smell that permeated the air. Looking at the guys while snapping on her latex gloves, Cath sighed heavily

"One body is murder, the next a flook and the third makes him a serial killer. One more and we have a serial on our hands boys"

Searching the scene as they had Jessica's there was nothing new to be seen, but Catherine noted that standing, she could see where Jessica's body had been left. Catherine's mind worked quickly, calculating the likelihood that maybe, just maybe, another body could be waiting for them in the dust wasteland that was Las Vegas. Wondering off alone, she scanned the ground in the area for any kind of disturbances, when a slight flash caught her eye. Approaching it warily, she crouched beside the source of the flash. Brushing some dirt aside with a large brush that she had in her kit, she found herself looking at a hand. The source of the flash being a small diamond ring.

"Guys! We have a serial killer!"

She grabbed the radio that was attached by a clip from her hip and radioed in the location.

"He must have botched at some point. Even the best have a worst"

Warrick was now crouching beside Catherine looking grimly at the body. They waited impatiently while the officer's came over with the tape and took some photos for there reports before they where allowed to uncover her completely. After brushing off all the dirt and removing her from the shallow grave, they started going over the area with a fine toothcomb. The girl had obviously been there longer then the other's, the body was in an extreme case of decomposition. The skin had turned a greenish color, the moisture from the body having left a long time ago, had left it shriveled looking. The maggots had long gone, the flesh all eaten away from the bones, leaving the girl looking mummified. They found some new fibers and some blood, praying that it would not match the Jane Doe that was making her way to the morgue.

"You were right about the best having a worst, and I'm hoping she's it."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four - Burger Queen

Hopping back into the truck, following the coroners van housing the two bodies closely, they where back at HQ quick enough to regroup and go over what they had so far. Sitting across from both Warwick and Nick, Catherine was glad that she was on this case with these two. As much as they love to muck around and make fun they also get the job done.

"So guys what do we have so far? Warrick?"

Crossing her arms she waited while he gathered his notes.

"Mother and father think that Jessica was great, more friends then enemies apparently friends with all sorts of people. When I went to talk to the boyfriend, Mark Westher, he refused to let me inside and I had to conduct the interview while standing on his porch. From what I could smell and see of his eyes, he was getting high. But otherwise nothing dodgy going on there, he was out of town when Jessica went missing. Brass is doing a check on it for me but I think that the kid was telling the truth. I called the dean and apparently, Mark was a straight A student until Jessica went missing and then he just lost it. For what it's worth, I believe him when he says that he had nothing to do with her death."

Sitting down heavily, he put his feet on the table and tried to get comfortable. Nick was nodding his head at Catherine.

"We got a whole lot of nothing, just these conflicting stories. By the sounds of it Jessica lived a double life, different from what her parents saw. She had many enemies on her own basketball team and the boyfriend, was by the sounds of things, possessive."

Catherine took off her coat, and removed her cell phone before she sat back.

"I found that she was a hard person to get to know according to what the teachers and some of her ex friends said…"

Stopping mid sentence, she sat up bolt straight and looked at Warrick

"What about that note from that Skylar Felton person? Did you take it to Greg?"

Warrick nodded

"Waiting for the results put a 911 on it and hopefully it should be back soon"

Sitting on the very edge of his seat, Warrick started bouncing his foot impatiently. Just when he was going to get up and start pacing, his beeper went off. Glancing at it he grinned

"Excellent"

And left the room quickly. Catherine sat back in her seat and closed her eyes as a comfortable silence followed between Nick and her.

"Do you think that Jessica was the latest victim?"

Catherine answered without bothering to open her eyes

"Yep I do, but Doc would be able to tell us more hopefully. What time is it Nicky?" She heard Nick adjust himself slightly

"Almost 3:00am"

Moaning quietly she did a quick mental calculation in her head. Another six hours and she'll be able to go home. This case had already dragged two days. She needed rest. Just before she was about to drift off to oblivion, her beeper went off. Opening her eyes lazily she found herself faced with the sleeping form of Nick _Good to see I'm not the only one feeling the strain_ she thought to herself as she read the message. Standing up and stretching she moved over to the couch where Nick was splayed on

"Wakey wakey, Doc wants to see us"

Shaking his shoulder, she stood back and waited till Nick opened his eyes

"I wasn't sleeping… I was looking at the back of my eyelids"

With a wide yawn he stood and put his coat back on and muttered to himself as he followed Catherine to the coroner's office.

"If this case drags on any longer, I'm going to become a zombie"

* * *

Two hours later Catherine and Nick emerged from the coroner's office carrying his official report when they ran into Sara and Grissom.

"How is your case going?"

Catherine indicated to the file that Sara was carrying

"Yeah as good as can be expected. Been dragging on long enough"

Grissom raised his eyes at Sara's comment, and turned back too face Catherine, in time to see the look on her face when she caught sight of Sara's now unmissable black eye.

"Well if there is nobody against it, I think we might call it a morning. All of you go home and get a few hours sleep, change of clothes and meet back here at six tonight."

Without another word he turned on his heel and left.

"When he says that all of us go home, does that mean he is going to sleep in the office again?"

Sara looked at Catherine with a raised eyebrow and sighed when she nodded

"I think he feels more at home in this place then he does in his own apartment"

Saying their goodbyes, Sara watched as Catherine and Nick headed to the locker room, paging Warrick and Greg on the way, then headed to Grissom's office herself. Knocking lightly, she stood at the doorway and watched as Grissom once again went over the evidence that they had gathered from the scene. He was reading the ballistics report when he finally realized she was standing there.

"Having fun watching me?"

Sara smiled and moved into the room and sat down across from Grissom.

"Are you going to go home with the rest of us or stay here until we return?"

Grissom sat back, put his hands together and looked at Sara. The whole right side of her face was slightly swollen, with the actual eye and cheekbone, a glaring purple and blue. She still looked amazingly fresh for someone who had only gotten a couple of hours sleep.

"Tell me your theory of what happened to this little girl"

Allowing her to think for a moment he got up and made a small batch of tea and poured both himself and Sara some.

"The only thing still really annoying me is the fact that Mrs. Johnson was there, and why she was there. Also the fact of the money was going to go to her when Stacie died. It just ties up in such an odd way. I think that the stepmother did it, she so obviously hated the little girl"

She paused to take a small sip of the hot scalding tea then sat back and waited for Grissom to voice his opinion.

"I agree with all of your points but now it's up to us to catch the stepmother out. The DNA sample she gave tonight should show us if she had been abusing Stacie if Doc can find some skin fragments or something on the body but we have no proof on the gun front. Unless we can find the gun and prove that she had something to do with the killing, then we can only catch her out only on child abuse."

Stirring sugar into his tea thoughtfully he stopped mid stir and looked at Sara.

"We could match the hand prints on Stacie's body to Mrs. Johnson's, but it's not going to stand up in court with nothing else. We need to find the other odds and ends."

Sara nodded then indicated to the files spread out n the top of Grissom's desk.

"So are you going to go home at some point?" Grissom took a small sip of his own tea and nodded.

"I want to go over a few more things first then I will definitely be getting out of here"

Sara watched as he began looking through the files again, picked up one herself and sat back.

"I have no where urgent to be and the only way to ensure you go home at some point is to stay here."

A steady silence fell between them broken only by the soft rustle of pages being turned and the refilling of mugs.

* * *

Catherine turned the key to her apartment softly in the lock, trying not to disturb the sleeping girls she knew would be there. Entering as quietly as possible and carefully making her way into her own room before she turned on any lights, she sat down on the bed. Putting her keys on the bedside table and her handbag on the floor beside the bed, she quietly exited the room again making her way down the hall to her daughter's room. Opening her door quietly, she crept over to the bed and sat beside her daughter Lindsay. Her daughter stirred and rolled over, opening her eyes and grinning when she saw who it was

"Mommy! I missed you tonight. Me and Sharon played cards and some board games, but it would have been better if you were here"

Stroking her daughters face, Catherine smiled sadly

"I know baby, but I have to work to catch the bad guys. I missed you too"

Pulling her little girl into a fierce hug, she breathed in her beautiful child scent before she tucked her back into bed.

"I don't need to go back to work till later tonight, so how about I pick you up from school and we can go for ice cream?"

Nodding, she gave Catherine a toothy grin.

"Okay mommy."

Catherine stayed beside her daughter till she was well asleep then went to the guest room to check on the sitter. Upon opening the door, she found Sharon Wellis reading a book and having a hot drink.

"Hey Catherine, how was work?"

Putting her book down and indicating for Catherine to sit, she sat against the headboard and waited. The slightly plump 20-year old, had been looking after Lindsay since Catherine had decided that it would be easier on Lindsey to stay at home rather then always going to her grandmothers. With red her, freckles and a love for children, Catherine never hesitated leaving Lindsay in the younger woman's care.

"Yeah well its work you know. Put in many hours, get little pay"

Sitting on the bed she hung her head between her hands.

"How was she tonight?"

Sharon smiled

"She was great. She was a little sad at some points about you not being here and then she got sad about Eddie, but other then that she was fine. We made some cookies, there on the bench if you want some."

Catherine shook her head and then sighed

"Sharon do you think you could get Lindsay off to school for me in the morning? I'll pick her up in the afternoon, but I need to be back at work by six. Is that ok?"

Sharon nodded, as Catherine had known she would. Sharon had no family of her own and she basically lived at Catherine's because of the hours she did. It was good to know that she had at least one part of her life fairly balanced. Standing up she approached the bedroom door.

"I'll leave you to it then, and thanks for everything"

Smiling more brightly then she felt, she closed the door soundlessly behind her. Within moments she was back in her own room, and she sighed gratefully as she slid between the cool sheets. Closing her heavy tired eyes, she drifted to oblivion.

* * *

Sitting in a bar, just north of the CSI office, were Nick and Warrick. Having come to the conclusion that sleep would be a problem, the decided to discuss the case further over a couple of drinks.

"We'll keep it to a limit of two ok dude? If Grissom found out we had been drinking…."

Nick let the sentence hang in the air, and smiled when the beers where placed in front of them.

"Two it is. Cheers"

Clanking his pint against Nick's Warrick took a deep swallow of the cold, frothy brew before he spoke again.

"So what did Doc's report say?"

Opening the file that was just under his elbow Nick glanced over what was found.

"Both yet to be identified. Both were basketball players like Jessica Swaye. All three bleed to death, but that was fairly obvious being a serial killer and all. But this is the part that you will love. The body that Catherine found, there was a whole series of blunders with that one"

Warrick nodded slightly

"So I was right then?"

Nick took another drink before he answered

"Appears so dude. She had been hit over the head at lease half a dozen time, and the cuts that where there to bleed her, where jagged and not very tidy compared to the other bodies. Also there were less of them. It was just a cut along the throat and the upper thigh. The hairs we found did not match the victim and we found sexual fluid inside of her. No evidence of rape though, just the presence of the fluids. So all of the victims had sex before they died."

Warrick let out a low whistle

"Does Catherine know all of this?"

Nick shook his head.

"Nope she hightailed it home when where allowed to go early. We'll catch her up on all of this later."

Stuffing a handful of peanuts in his mouth, Nick chewed quickly as a thought dawned on him.

"What about the results on that note that you found in the girls room? Any leads?"

Warrick played coaster that his beer was meant to be sitting on.

"Inconclusive. I had a few finger prints but they didn't show up on the data base, and whom ever this Skylar person is, she has not got a criminal record and the number that was on the bottom of the note was disconnected"

Nick licked the salt from his fingers and took another drink of beer.

"So what do you think we are dealing with here? Doctor gone bad?"

Smiling when Warrick snorted slightly through a mouthful of beer, he awaited a response.

"Either that or someone has a mega grudge against basketball players"

* * *

Two hours later both Sara and Grissom where still sitting in his office looking through the files, searching for anything they may have missed earlier. It wasn't until Sara glanced at her watch that she realized just how late it was.

"Grissom it is almost six am. Are we just about done here? Because I'm not going until you do"

Grissom glanced up from the file he was reading and looked at his own watch. It was indeed almost six am and they had found nothing new to add to their case. Admitting defeat for at least a few hours he stood and stretched.

"I think it is home time"

Putting on his coat and grabbing his briefcase that was leaning against the desk, he started loading the files into it, fully intending to go over them again at home.

"Do you want a ride home?"

Sara nodded

"Damn car is still at the shop."

Looking back once just to make sure he had everything, he switched off his desk lamp and followed Sara to the door, the case still turning cartwheels in his mind. Making their way to the locker room, Grissom was making use of the quite time planning the strategy for later on that day, trying to figure out how they where going to get the step mother to confess. Busy in his own thoughts, he crashed into Sara when she paused to open the locker room swing doors.

"You're over tired or thinking. Either way you're a hazard to your own health and to others" She spoke dryly as she unlocked her locker and began grabbing the dirty clothes from the pervious day and her shower bag. She watched as Grissom grabbed a book that was a thick as a dictionary with the title _Bugs: Natures Misunderstood Miracle Workers. _

"Light reading?"

Sara cocked her head and pointed at the massive volume under Grissom's arm

"As a matter of fact yes. Interested?"

Sara proceeded to pack her backpack with the remaining essentials in her locker.

"I tell you what. If ever I can't sleep I'll call you and you can read that to me over the phone" Grissom looked slightly miffed when Sara looked back at him

"There is meaning to the title you know… Bugs are brilliant creatures"

Sara tried to look enthused but failed miserably.

"Yeah I believe you; I'll just leave you to read the huge books."

Saying good night to the others shift that had started they made their way to Grissom's black car that was sitting in the corner of the car park. Sara curiosity got the best of her when they had settled in the vehicle, and she began shuffling through the small CD collection. Mostly classical music and some opera but she was a little shocked to fine a Beach Boys CD and a Bee Gee's one.

"So you have some secret music tastes as well huh?"

Smiling to herself she continued through the CD collection till she found the Top Gun soundtrack.

"Still living on the same street?"

Grissom asked Sara as he navigated the early morning flow of traffic.

"Yup"

The silence once again fell between them, each thinking their own thoughts on the case. After driving for several minutes in silence, and having arrived almost at her house, Sara started up the conversation again.

"So where is the gun? I mean we looked through that house and the cops looked through that house as well."

Grissom turned a sharp corner then straightened again.

"It has been taken off site. It would have to be in order for there to be no proof of it inside the house."

Feeling in no way more informed Sara just nodded.

"I still don't understand why people do the things that they do"

Grissom's voice softened

"It's amazing what hate and greed can do to a person"

Pulling along side a set of neat apartments, he turned the car off.

"I love my job but I hate what I do"

Grissom looked at Sara slightly startled.

"As many ups and positive things there are about our jobs there are just as many downs. And what makes it harder is I can't leave work at work. It follows me whatever I do. It took me weeks to work out my anger on that Kaye Shelton case we had."

Grissom looked out the windscreen of the car, peering into the quite street ahead.

"It's just the way you are Sara. Cath has Lindsay to keep her distracted; I have my bugs and roller coasters. You just need to find a distraction is all"

Sara looked at Grissom and silence fell again. After a few minutes, it became obvious that Grissom was going to offer no other help or advice, Sara grabbed her backpack that was sitting at her feet and opened the car door, allowing entrance to the chilly morning breeze that was dancing around the city.

"Night Grissom"

Without waiting for a response she closed the door, turned and made her way to her front door of her apartment block. Grissom sat and waited till she was safely inside before he started up the car again and made his way home.

* * *

At six pm, Catherine headed back into the office with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. Heading for the locker room, she met up with Warrick and Nick.

"My, don't we look chirpy?"

Nick and Warrick both regarded Catherine with a grin, while she put her coat and purse into the small compartment.

"I picked Lindsay up from school today, had some ice cream with her then we went and did some shopping. I got to spend quite time with my daughter. Hence the grin"

Warrick looked at Nick and Nick looked at Warrick, then back at Catherine.

"You are so going to love us then! We got the labs back!"

Grinning broadly he handed over the report to Catherine, and they watched as her eyes got wider as did her smile.

"So we have something to go on at least! If this night gets any better then I will definitely be leaving with a smile! Good going guys!"

Humming to herself she emptied out the backpack she brought with her and followed the guys to the break room to grab a quick coffee before they got to work. Sitting down in the sofa next to Nick, she started getting the bigger details from him about the last body that they found near Jessica's site.

"According to the report, both had been killed the same way as Jessica. But the older body was obviously the first one to go. She had been the experimental one, she had several head wounds, and there were fewer cuts. Just one on the thigh and one on the neck. The cuts were definitely more rugged and shallower."

Catherine nodded with satisfaction. It was good news all round. The families get to bury their loved ones and they were getting closer and closer to the killer.

"So where to from here is the main question"

Warrick sighed deeply, and silenced fell and all three tried to figure out the next step.

"We could try and track that letter. Surely Jessica wasn't the only one to receive it?"

Catherine nodded slowly.

"Her old group of friend's she used to hang with reacted funny when I mentioned the name on the bottom of the note to them. I'll give Brass a call and get them in for questioning, while you guys can go back to the University and see if any of her other team mates got a note."

Nick and Warwick both nodded finished their coffees and left, leaving Catherine to make her phone call to Brass.

A short time later the three young people were brought in and then separated, Anna Jason coming to see Catherine first. The girl was wearing a black shirt with rips up the back and around the waist, and a safety pin through each ear.

"Hello Anna, how are you?"

Catherine made sure the girl was comfortable, giving her a nice smile and a soda.

"Yeah ok I suppose. Why am I here?"

Catherine played with her pen that she held in her hand.

"I have more questions about this Skylar Felton person."

Catherine pushed the note towards Anna, watching Anna's face for any change.

"I don't know who you're talking about"

Anna folded her arms, her face and posture unyielding. Catherine gazed at her intently.

"Three people are dead, one of which is your old high school friend and you have nothing to tell me?"

Anna looked away from Catherine avoiding her gaze.

"Anna, I need you to tell me about this Skylar person. Has she threatened you in any way? Is that why you didn't want to tell me?"

Catherine kept her voice quite and even, trying to maintain her professionalism, not to lose her temper with this kid who was very obviously trying to hide something

"She said that she could help Jessica with her career, but first Jessica had to create the right image. We weren't part of that image and so…. we got dumped"

Anna sat there playing with some non-existent fabric on her pants.

"Do you know when Jessica met Skylar?"

Anna moved her hands and wrapped them around her can of soda.

"Pretty late in the year, don't know the exact dates though".

Catherine nodded and studied the girl for a second.

"Did you ever meet her?"

Anna shook her head

"Jessica usually went to her house or met up for coffee at either the campus coffee lounge or the local Starbucks. Jess talk about her a lot. Mostly about how she was going to make her career huge. Did this person kill her?"

Anna's eyes looked pleadingly at Catherine, tearing up when Catherine shrugged.

"We don't know for sure but until this person is cleared, she is definitely a suspect".

Anna nodded slightly.

"I wish I had been there for her more, you know? But when she started changing we all took it as a personal insult so we all became cold to her and then she disappeared. I wish that she had never met that Skylar person, even if she didn't kill Jess, she still changed her."

Anna looked at Catherine again

"Are we done?"

Catherine nodded and watched as the sad young girl walked out of the room.

* * *

"Didn't think I would see you here again, Mr. Stokes"

Coach Parkinson grinned broadly at Nick.

"Yeah well it's that old gym smell you know, can't keep away. Coach, this is my workmate Warrick Brown and we need to talk to some of the girls again if that's ok?"

Coach nodded and after shaking hands with Warwick, she blew her whistle and interrupted the basketball game the girls had been playing.

"Ok ladies, you all know Mr. Stokes here, well he needs to talk to some of you again, so you can do some stretches, sit ups and such while he calls you up ok?"

The girls all nodded eyes all on Nick and Warrick. Nick smiled at the girls and looked around the group.

"Ok, Scarlette Walker"

A low whistle went around the room, and all the girls started making catcalls as a tall pretty girl with long red hair stood up grinning. She followed Nick to a quite corner, while Warrick stayed behind to question a different girl.

"So how can I help you Officer?"

Scarlette sat fairly close to Nick, making him slightly uncomfortable. Her shorts seemed like they were a little too short, her t-shirt a little too tight.

"I wanted to ask you about Jessica Sway"

Scarlette's smile dropped from her face, now replaced with a scowl, and she shifted a little away from Nick.

"That little tramp."

Nick watched the girl as she stared at her teammates, her blue eyes narrowed.

"We were told that you and Jessica didn't get on?"

Scarlette snorted through her narrow nose, a smirk playing on her mouth.

"Total understatement. I hated her and she hated me. It was mutual."

Nick cocked his head slightly.

"Why did you hate each other?"

Scarlette twirled her long red hair around her fingers, eyebrows raised.

"I was better at basketball and yet she got to be captain of the team. I was and always will be better then her at this game. At least now that she has gone, I can take my rightful place as captain."

Nick looked into the girl's eyes, finding no remorse or sadness over the death of her teammate.

"Have you ever heard of a Skylar Felton?"

Scarlette paused for a second, her hand still on her hair. Then she started nodding enthusiastically, her hair bouncing around her shoulders.

"Yeah she's a talent scout that has been around here a couple of times. I got a letter in a mail yesterday saying she was interested in my game."

Scarlette reached into her shorts pocket, withdrawing a small square of paper, neatly folded, and handed it to Nick, smiling.

"She only gave these notes to the most talented. This means that she has nothing to do with Jessica's death, she wasn't good enough to get a note."

Nick raised his eyes at the girl, as he put on a latex glove and then took the letter.

_Hey Scarlette,_

_You have great talent for your young age. Give me _

_a call if you are interested in getting into the big leagues!_

_555-6758_

_Skylar Felton._

Nick put the letter in a small evidence bag he had in his pocket, dating it then putting it back into his pocket before meeting the girl's unbelieving gaze.

"What are you doing? I need to call her!"

Nick shook his head at the girl.

"Sorry this note now belongs to us. And I am afraid that Jessica did get a letter. This Felton character is the only thing connecting the murders. So just be glad that you never met her."

Nick moved away from Scarlette, and to where Warrick had just finished chatting with one of the other girls.

"So did they get a letter too?"

Nick indicated to the young women leaving with his thumb. Warwick nodded and handed over the bag in his hand that contained a neatly folded note.

"And she seemed disappointed that I wouldn't even let her copy the number. Who is this person and why are they after all these kids?"

* * *

Sara carefully studied the hand prints they had collected from the parents closely, and then compared them to the prints found on Stacie's body, taking notes on the parts that matched and those that did not. She had been sitting in the empty interview room for hours trying to piece together the puzzle that lay before her, when her cell phone rang. It had been the babysitter Carla Reid and she wanted to talk to Sara. Sara popped her head into Grissom's office, finding him behind his desk going over a file.

"I'm going to talk to one of the suspects. Carla Reid she just called me on my phone… Wanna join me?"

Grissom nodded, grabbed his coat and followed Sara wordlessly to one of the C.S.I trucks in the parking lot. They headed over to the diner that Carla had instructed for them to meet at in silence. They then spotted Carla sitting in the corner booth, dressed in the same hoody and jeans that she had worn the day of the murder.

"Carla, what's up?"

Sara approached the girl, sitting beside her, Grissom across. The girl had a tear-tracked face, her make-up smudged, giving her a raccoon look.

"I couldn't do it anymore. I'm not eating or drinking. I did it. I killed Stacie."

Carla's outburst made Sara recoil in surprise, looking at Grissom for his reaction. Grissom was sitting calmly, and indicated to the waitress and ordered three black coffees for himself, Sara and Carla.

"Let's take a deep breath and take it from the beginning ok? One step at a time."

Carla nodded at Grissom then glanced at Sara, breathing shallowly, playing with her cuff.

"I lied to you and the police officer's. I'm sorry I did."

Carla fell silent when the waitress came over with the three cups, putting one in front of each of them. Sara and Grissom waited as Carla stirred in sugar and cream into the once black coffee.

"Why did you lie?'

Sara was sick of waiting for the girl to talk, and she felt that she needed some urging.

"I was scared of Mrs. Johnson. I had threatened to go to the police with the abuse that she was inflicting on Stacie, and she had reacted in a not so nice way. She made a point of calling me at home, and when I baby sat, she often drove me home afterwards and said that I could be taken care of at any point along with my mother and little sister."

Sara looked at Grissom almost grinning; they might finally get Amy Johnston. Grissom was still sitting calmly, a note pad in front of him taking notes as he sipped his coffee.

"So what happened that day?"

Carla started to cry, her fist's clenched on top of the table in front of her.

"Mrs. Johnston had been home that day, just before it happened. I was cutting up the fruit for Stacie, when she came rushing in, she didn't say a word to me, just went straight upstairs. I heard her talking to Stacie, and I then heard a popping sound, which I assumed was a balloon I had blown up for Stacie earlier. Mrs. Johnson came rushing back down and told me that Stacie was in trouble and to leave her be, and to not to go into her room. I waited for a good ten minutes until I went upstairs, where I found Stacie."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five - The Damage In Your Heart

The fight and energy had drained from the girl, and her shoulders were relaxed as if a huge weight had been lifted. Grissom sipped his coffee again, which amazed Sara, her own sat untouched and she was sitting on the edge of her seat in excitement.

"So in what way did you kill Stacie? Because from what you just said you were an innocent party in this crime."

Carla looked at Grissom doubtfully.

"If I had gone to the police earlier then this could have been prevented."

Grissom shrugged.

"It is a little too late for what ifs. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this. You are indeed an innocent party."

Carla bit her lower lip and then glanced quickly at Sara, and then looked back to the table in front of her.

"There's something else that she found out about. I…I had an affair with Mr. Johnston. It happened once."

Sara's jaw dropped, and when she looked at Grissom, even he couldn't hide the shock which was written all over his face.

"And why didn't you mention this earlier?"

Sara was struggling to keep the anger out of her voice, which she was failing miserably at doing. She could see the fear in the girl's eyes.

"I didn't think it mattered. It was a foolish mistake that cost me more then I can say."

After a few more minutes conversation, they told the girl to go home and that they would call her when they needed to talk to her some more.

"Time too make a stop over at the Johnson's residence and talk to lovely Amy again."

Sara smiled slightly, and hopped into the car beside Grissom. A few minutes later they were at the Johnson's residence and crossing their fingers that Amy would be home they knocked on the front door. An Asian women dressed in a maid's uniform answered the door, and then left to go and get Amy with barely a hello. Mrs. Johnson was wearing a red power suit today, red high heels, and not a strand of her permed hair out of place.

"Can I help you?"

Amy's eyes looked at both Sara and Grissom with the same familiar contempt, allowing a smile to play on her thin lips when she saw Sara's shiner, which her husband had caused.

"Can we come in?"

Grissom kept his tone mellow but firm, his face completely blank.

"Please."

Amy stepped back, allowing both of the CSI's entry, and they after closing the front door, led them into the spotless living room, and indicated the sofa.

"Please, sit. Anything to drink?"

Both Sara and Grissom sat, and they both refused the drink offer. Grissom removed a small notebook from his breast pocket, a pen attached to the notepad and smiled at Amy Johnson, looking remarkable friendly considering what they had just heard.

"What were you doing back here? You told us that you were at a charity function the whole day, but our source indicates otherwise."

Grissom's voice was smooth, faultless and cold and Sara could see the question caught Amy completely off guard.

"And who's your source? That hoodlum Carla?"

Sara looked coldly at Amy.

"The hoodlum that you hired to look after your child. And yes, she did tell us you were here. Explain?"

Amy looked back at Grissom, a look of aggravation, dancing across her cold features.

"How do you put up with her? She is very annoying. Like a droning bee."

Grissom ignored the statement, and hoped that Sara would do the same.

"Just answer the question, unless you want to come back to our headquarters"

Amy sighed, like speaking was a huge burden and an inconvenience, not as important as it was.

"I forgot something. I came back, went and said goodbye to Stacie then I left."

"What about Carla's complaint's of threats, on your part?"

Amy shrugged and waved her hand, dismissing the comment.

"Why would I threaten her?"

"She claims it was because she had threatened to go to the police regarding the ongoing abuse to Stacie. She also told us about sleeping with your husband"

Amy smiled coldly at Sara.

"Well then she was wrong. I would never lower myself to threats. And as for my husband, that girl had a foolish crush."

Amy stood, indicating that the interview was over.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a charity meeting to go too".

Sara and Grissom stepped back into the semi lightness of the night, Grissom calling Brass, about a warrant regarding Amy's clothes that she wore that day. As they drove back to the office, Grissom glanced over to Sara when they were at a red light.

"You know that you're not like a droning bee don't you?"

Sara shook her head.

"Like I'm going to let a suspected child abuser and killer judge me. Thanks though."

Grissom turned the corner, heading down the highway.

"You're a lot louder."

* * *

Catherine clutched the printed pieces of paper in her hand, walking speedily down the corridor's heading to the break room to meet up with Warrick and Nick. They were both sitting around the table, which was laid with Chinese, each man digging in eagerly.

"I found her."

Catherine waved the pieces of paper in front of the men's faces, as she started pilling her plate high with rice, sweet and sour pork and egg Foo-Yung.

"I went onto the Internet ran a search on Skylar Felton and look what I found."

Catherine laid the papers in front of the men. One had a full picture of the women in a basketball uniform and under that the article "Rising Star falls." The others were basic facts about the women, date of birth were she went to school and what she was doing now.

"Turns out that she injured herself in the first semester of University. Yale University. Then she was the basketball captain during the year of 1983, until she dislocated her knee's, which threw her out of the game. She continued at the University, going on to get a medical degree, which allowed her to be a practicing nurse... Then she disappeared. She never went to any of the reunions; she doesn't have a record, not even a parking ticket. But Greg managed to get an address, we just don't know if it's the current one."

Catherine sat back satisfied with herself; she dug eagerly into her food letting the guy's read the sheets of paper. Sara and Grissom walked in at the point, and then spotting the food they too filled their plates and made themselves comfortable, Grissolm next to Sara on the sofa with Catherine

"How are you guy's doing with your case?"

Grissom glanced at Sara, and then looked at Catherine.

"It's interesting. We have many conflicting stories, none making much sense. You?"

Catherine swallowed her mouthful of food then took a sip of her soda before she answered a smile on her face.

"We just got a break on it hopefully. We just gotta keep our fingers crossed that we are going to the right house."

Grissom nodded, taking a big bite of egg foo yung. Silence fell, as each of the team member's concentrated on the first proper meal they had had in a while. Brass walked in at that moment, handed Grissom a warrant and grinned at the rest of the team.

"Lunch?"

They nodded in unison, and Warrick indicated the table.

"Help yourself. There's plenty there, well until Greg comes at least."

Brass shook his head holding up his hands.

"Chinese doesn't agree with me. Too greasy "

Brass left with a wave of his hand, the team finished, rinsed their plates them resumed their separate task's, Sara and Grissom heading to the Johnson's country club, Nick Warrick and Catherine heading to the Skylar Felton residence.

* * *

The split level apartments were neat, side by side and identical, with cream roofs, and red tilling. Warrick, Catherine and Nick pulled in front of the address that Greg had provided them with, knocking on the heavy wooden door, waiting impatiently for a response. A young looking lady answered, wearing a black pair of fitting pants, a crimson silk blouse and black boots. She had short dark blonde hair, wide blue eyes, full red lips and a narrow nose.

"Can I help you?"

Her voice was heavy with wariness, despite the team showing their badges.

"Hi, we're from the Las Vegas Crime Unit and we were hoping to talk to you about your where abouts on some key dates to our investigation."

Catherine kept her voice low and friendly, learning long ago that tone of voice can make a huge difference in the help people give.

The women nodded once and moved aside, letting them enter her home. The suspect led them to a small intimate living room, indicating for them to sit on the peach colored sofa, while she took a matching seat.

"How can I help?"

The woman's demeanor had changed, her voice and face still and calm. She watched them all intently as if expecting them to jump up and attack her.

"Do you recognize this?"

Warrick spoke for the first time, handing the women the note he had found in Jessica's room.

"Yes. I gave this to Jessica Swaye some months ago. I knew it would be a matter of time before you showed up on my door. I speculate that you're here because you have found the notes that I gave the other girl's."

Catherine nodded, studying the women closely.

"So why did you give them the notes? You haven't been involved in basketball for some years."

The women flashed Catherine an angry look, before her calm appearance changed.

"Just because I don't play anymore, does not mean I've lost my connections. I have friends in the National Basketball League that are always looking for new talent. I go to games and help them find some. I meet with the girl's, and then I send them off to my friend."

Skyler handed Catherine a business card from her purse and sat back arms crossed.

"Is there anything else?"

Catherine, Warrick and Nick left a little while later, unsatisfied with the interview.

"We need to check out this connection before we do anything else. I still think she is lying though."

They piled into the truck and headed for the NBL headquarters.

* * *

As corny as the country club name was, even Sara had to admit it was beautiful. "Snow Dove" was full of plush golfing greens, glittering pools and neat tennis courts. The driveway was long and Grissom had to show the security guard at the front desk I.D before he would even look at them. This was snob heaven.

"Hello. May I help you?"

A short middle-aged man in a white uniform was looking at Sara and Grissom with unveiled scorn, his voice cold and not very welcoming at all.

"Yes, could we please talk to your manager? It's of a sensitive nature."

Grissom took out his badge, flashing it in the man's face. The man's face went an interesting shade of scarlet, mumbled something then went dashing off.

"So this is the life of the rich. Not too shabby."

Sara looked over the green grass, watching some people play golf, their clothes pristine. Grissom shrugged, looking at the shrubbery around them.

"Money buys you great things, but not the most important."

Before Sara could question Grissom on this profound notion a women came to meet them. She was short, thin and quite old. Her hair was neat and white, her clothes a pristine red and her pantyhose run-less.

"How can I help you, Officer?"

Somehow this woman managed to make officer sound like an offensive and rude word making Sara instantly dislike her.

"Yes. We would like to talk to you regarding Amy Johnson".

Grissom's voice matched the women's, spitting out Amy's name, making it sound just as bad.

"What would you like to know?"

"If she was here on Friday 16th January."

The women nodded stiffly, as if not quite familiar with the action of agreeing.

"Yes she was. She left for a while but then came back."

Grissom nodded, jotting a few things down in a notebook.

"And had she changed her clothes?"

The women nodded again, looking exasperated about the whole conversation.

"I have no idea. I didn't see her when she got back."

Grissom frowned, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Then how do you know she came back?"

The women rolled her eyes and pushed a book towards Sara and Grissom, folded her arms and waited. The book was full of names, sign in and sign out. Sara turned the pages till she found the appropriate day and tracked down Amy's signature.

"Hey Grissom, she returned an hour later. She was gone for a while."

Sara watched as Grissom looked over the same page, confirming their suspension. She had time to dump the clothes and clean up before she returned to the club.

"Do you have security cameras?"

Grissom pushed the book back towards the women and waited for an answer.

"Of course we do. Why?"

Grissom cocked his head to the side studying the women

"Because we would like to have a look through them if you don't mind"

"Yes we do mind. You'll need a warrant for that."

Sara stepped forward, leaning close to the women, keeping her voice low.

"Yeah, but if we do that, it would close down the club. And then the papers would hear about it. But if you let us take a quick peek, then we could leave sooner."

The women sighed, resigned to the fact that she would have to co-operate. She led them to a back entrance through the kitchen and then into the security room.

"Get what you want, make copies and then you can leave."

The room was small, with several TV's screwed to the wall, across one side of the room. There was no guard in the room, and Grissom stepped back and allowed Sara to make copies of the appropriate tapes for the days they needed.

"Hey Grissom?" Sara kept her eyes glued to the screen, pushing a button every now and then.

"Yeah?"

Sara continued clicking and copying as she voiced her concerns to Grissom.

"If she did shoot Stacie, she would have had time to change her clothes and then dispose of any evidence linking her to the crime, including the gun"

Grissom continued to watch Sara copy all the tapes that they could before he answered.

"This is why we need to use these tapes to connect the murder with this woman. If she doesn't have a real reason as to why she changed her clothes, and if she cannot produce the clothes we require, then we have some solid standing. Until then, it's all a guessing game. Which reminds me, we need to get Mr. Johnson in for an interview, we need to clear up this affair thing."

* * *

Catherine was still not convinced that the women were telling the truth, even though her alibi checked out. She fit the profile to a tee and it was far too hard to ignore the facts staring them in the face. Fortunately for her, Warrick shared her view.

"It doesn't feel right, Cath. Something doesn't fit."

"I know, believe me I feel it too. It feels like she fits for the killings but we must go and find what we need to. This is where a love of puzzles comes in handy."

Warrick laughed and followed her to the truck, and headed back to HQ where Cath got a page from Doc Robbins. Catherine left Warrick to go over the statements of the employees from the NBL checking for inconsistencies and she headed for the Morgue.

"What's up?"

Doc smiled upon Catherine's entry making her instantly hopeful that there might be some good news. For this case they needed a break, something to get it going again.

"Do you have a suspect yet?"

Catherine nodded, moving deeper into the morgue.

"A female ex-sport star, who trained as a nurse. Why?"

"I found you a finger print. A partial anyway."

"That's great; did you run it through AFIS?"

Doc pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Greg ran it just a little while ago. It belongs to one Benjamin Moore."

"What!?"

Catherine grabbed the paper out of Doc's hand, reading it eagerly.

"I was so sure it was this woman was connected with all of this."

Catherine left quickly, pulling out her cell phone and called Warrick informing him of the new turn in the investigation giving him the address and telling him to meet her there in ten minutes.

* * *

When she arrived at the section of flats she was surprised at how impressive they were, white and and brown house linked together, but they all looked the same which was a little too confusing for Catherine's liking.

"I thought we had this pegged. I thought we were almost done and then you call me and that theory flies."

He let out a world wary sigh and crossed his arms cocking his head and looking at Catherine.

"Yeah well I go where the evidence tells me to and it's telling me here despite my gut feeling on this. Brass is on his way; I just wanted to talk to him here quickly in case he closes up after the arrest. Let's go."

Catherine led the way to the front door of Benjamin Moore's apartment, and then knocked with the big brass knocker in the shape of a lion's head. They only had to wait for a few minutes before the door was opened.

"Benjamin Moore?"

The man nodded keeping the chain on the door, eyeing up Warrick warily.

"My name is Catherine Willows, and this is Warrick Brown, and we are here to ask you a few questions relating to a crime committed some time ago. May we come in?"

The man nodded again and then closed the door, and reopened it, chain gone. He led the way into a small living room bathed in sunlight and sat down on a chair, Catherine and Warrick following suit. The man had longish brown hair that hung over his eyes. It had a little too much wax in it to make the style look natural. He was a little taller then Catherine but a lot shorter then Warrick, he had a good body, from what Catherine could see in the shirt anyway. What got Catherine's attention was not only the color of his eyes but the vacant somewhat lost look in their depths.

"So what is it that you need to ask?"

Catherine moved further into the house and took a quick look around before she answered. There was nothing amiss from her point of view.

"Do you know a person called Skyler Felton?"

The vacant look stayed as the man shook his head.

"No I don't. It's an unusual name that I am sure that I would remember if I did though. So is that all? I am due at the gym in half an hour and I still need to get my stuff together."

Catherine shook her head, producing a picture of the partial thumbprint that Doc had found.

"Do you know much about fingerprints, Mr. Moore?"

Mr. Moore shook his head, a small sweat breaking out on his brow, just before his hairline.

"Well every person has a unique print. And I am afraid that your unique print was found on one of our victims in a case we are working on. Would you know anything about that Mr. Moore?"

Again the man shook his head, the sweat now dripping faster down his face. Catherine glanced at Warrick, who grabbed the man by the elbow.

"Well until we can prove otherwise, we need you to come back to our offices with us."

* * *

Mr. Johnson sat quietly at the table watching Sara and Grissom warily.

"So what is it you want to know about now?"

Sara glanced at Grissom, and taking the slight nod as an invitation to start, got down to the nitty gritty.

"Did you have an affair with Carla?"

Mr. Johnson stayed quite for a few more minutes before answering.

"Does Amy know?"

Sara nodded.

"She has known since the beginning and has threatened Carla ever since then. When did it happen?"

Mr. Johnson shifted slightly in his seat.

"When she first started working for us. I came home on night drunk."

Grissom stared at the man hard, unnerving him slightly.

"She was fourteen. That's statutory rape Mr. Johnson, you know that right?"

Mr. Johnson nodded, his eyes falling from Grissom's to the table in front of him.

"It was a mistake. I love Amy and I would do nothing on purpose to hurt her. Do you really think that Amy would threaten Carla? She is not really the type of women to do that."

Sara stared coldly at the man.

"Yeah well, you can't know her too well then. We suspect her of abusing your daughter, and from what we have gathered from your house you were planning to send her to boarding school. Sound's like your wife was better at manipulating you then you think. So another question is why is it that when you pass on your money is being left to Stacie and not Amy?"

Mr. Johnson let out a world weary sigh.

"She's my daughter. She has always come first, even before Amy. Why?"

Sara ignored his question, barreling on with her own.

"And what would happen to your money now that Stacie has passed on?"

"It would go to Amy. Does this help in anyway to get you folks out of our lives? Because I want to try and get some semblance of order back into my world thanks."

Sara sat back and allowed Grissom to finish off the questioning. She smiled to herself, she could feel the vice closing in on Amy Johnson, and there was no way in hell that Sara was going to let her get away.

* * *

Armed with a warrant, Grissom and Sara again went to the Johnston's home, once again depending on the fact that the lady of the house would be home, due to the fact this collection has to do with her and not Mr. Johnston. They knocked on the large white door and stood back and waited. Sara was just starting to hop from one foot to another when a much disheveled looking Amy Johnston flung the door open. Her normally neat hair was pushed in every which way, her lipstick smudged over her right cheek, wearing nothing except a silk scarlet red Asian looking robe.

"What now?"

Sara smiled sweetly and handed Amy the warrant.

"We need your clothes that you wore the day your daughter was killed."

Amy wrapped the robe around her tighter, and snatched the warrant from Sara's outstretched hand.

"Step daughter. And can we please do this some other time, I am a little busy."

Just then there was a voice that came from behind the large door, a voice filled with confusion, a voice that was not Mr. Johnston's.

"Honey, what's going on? Are you going to…?"

The question died on the man's lips as he came into view of Sara and Grissom. The man was tall and muscular, with a golden tan that went all the way to the top and bottom of his boxer shorts. He paused for a few minutes and then headed back upstairs without a word.

"I bet you were glad to see that. It will really go high on your thrill list. The very short list."

Sara continued to smile, nothing could ruin the feeling she felt at Amy's embarrassment. She nodded and moved to step inside the house, but Amy put her foot behind the door, jamming it, denying the two CSI's access.

"If you will just wait here, I will get the clothes that you require. Step inside and I will be calling your supervisor."

"Don't let us in and we will tell your husband"

Sara stood before Amy and stared her down, rising to her full height and pushing her chin up defiantly. Grissom stood back and allowed Sara to handle this one, and smiled as Amy stepped regretfully away from the door. She had a lot more to lose then Sara and Grissom did, millions too lose actually. They happily stepped into the large foyer, and stood waiting as Amy headed upstairs. A few minutes later, she came back down with an arm full of clothes which she dumped on the floor at Sara and Grissom's feet.

"There we go. When you are done, leave."

Without a backwards glance she turned on her heel and headed back upstairs. Without a word, Sara and Grissom put on their latex gloves and began bagging and sorting through the pile on the floor.

"They've been cleaned. You can smell it."

Grissom nodded, agreeing with Sara's statement, the strong smell of washing powder hung heavily in the air. They bagged and labeled the clothing, and then took it back to the truck. Back at HQ, Sara and Grissom got to work, spraying the clothes with spray that brought the blood to the surface, showing the stuff deep within the fibers.

"I got something Grissom."

Sara showed Grissom the blood that she had found splattered on Amy's white blouse. There were two small blood patches on the body of the blouse, and more on the right sleeve. With further investigation, they also found some blood splattered on Amy's shoes.

"So now we compare the blood we found to little Stacie's DNA, and if it comes back as hers then we call Brass and get a warrant for her arrest and to search the house."

Sara nodded and swabbed the blouse and shoes, bagged it and then hand delivered it to Greg, putting an ASAP on it. Then they moved into the break room and had a coffee while they waited, hoping that they finally gotten their women.

* * *

Benjamin Moore sat quietly in the interview chair, his forehead leaning on the table, his left leg shaking continually, his only sign of nervousness.

"So do we truly believe that this guy acted alone? Don't get me wrong he has the muscle to do it, but he seems like he would not think of this plan alone. That and he's covering for someone."

Nick's voice was echoing Catherine's voice of reason, which kept popping into her head. It just didn't make any sense to her. He had no qualification in his history which left the idea of the killer having past experience open, he had no connection to the basketball player and yet somehow his fingerprint had been found. He also appeared to have no motive. Catherine could smell a rat, she just needed to find it.

"I am going to sort this out now. It's about time the families of the victims got some answers."

Catherine moved into the room startling Benjamin Moore making him hit his knee on the bottom of the metal table.

"Jessica Swaye."

Catherine threw down a picture of Jessica's autopsied body in front of Benjamin Moore.

"Carol Higgins"

Another pictured followed; the picture's getting a little more gruesome as she went along.

"Tina Carrington."

Benjamin's face was now an interesting shade of green, and he was trying to avoid looking at the table in front of him.

"You are going to be on death row for this. And let me tell you, in prison you will be popular as fresh meat."

His eyes locked with the pictures on the tabletop, shaking his head.

"You have the wrong person. I have never seen these girl's before in my life."

Catherine sat down across from Benjamin and studied him for a second before continuing with the questioning.

"And your fingerprint got there how? Come on Mr. Moore, all the evidence is pointing at you."

Benjamin shook his head, his eyes looking everywhere except at the pictures on the table.

"Your evidence is wrong. All you have is my fingerprint and not much else. You can't hold me on that."

Nick came bursting into the interview room at that point handing Catherine a piece of paper before leaving without a word. Catherine read the paper quickly, before looking at Benjamin again.

"Now we know that you had sex with all those girls before they died. Which may explain the print on the body of Tina Carrington but why was there nothing on the other girl's? If you had sex with all the victims then where are the rest of your prints? Please enlighten me Mr. Moore because this has me a little confused."

Benjamin said nothing; a fresh sweat broke out on his forehead again. It was when Catherine was getting up to stand that he finally broke his silence.

"I want a deal."

Catherine sat back down in her seat.

"Depends whether what you have to tell us is worth a deal. Tell me and then I'll decide."

Benjamin thought that over for a second before desperation appeared to get the better of him.

"Skylar Felton. That's who you need to talk to about this."

Catherine sighed heavily.

"I am afraid that we have spoken to her already and we have nothing on her. We found your prints so unless you give us something concrete then you are going to be going down for this alone."

Benjamin stared at Catherine.

'I need protection from her. She can make anybody do anything for her and she could have me killed."

Catherine sighed again. This man was starting to test her patience.

"Give us something that we can use against her then. Tell me exactly what happened with those girls."

Benjamin glanced at the glass behind Catherine, where Warrick and Nick were standing listening to their conversation.

"Who's listening to us?"

Catherine shrugged.

"No idea. Why?"

Benjamin narrowed his eyes at Catherine.

"I want someone to hear how I demanded a deal. I want to know that I am protected."

Catherine shrugged.

"We could get you a lawyer if you want. That would make sure that you are protected."

Benjamin shook his head.

"I don't want a lawyer. I'm ready to talk; all a lawyer will do is stop me from talking."

Catherine smiled sweetly at the man, the words coming between her teeth.

"Well hurry up and talk then. I don't have all day to waste on you."

Benjamin kept his head down as he started to speak, his voice low and soft.

"I never knew her reason for doing what she did to those girls. All I know is that I did what she asked because I loved her. I would have done anything for her and she knew it. Instead of honoring our love she threw it back in my face when I told her that I think I stuffed up."

Catherine banged her fist on the table.

"Come on, I don't need the lead up. I want to know what you did to those girls. If you want your deal start talking facts."

Benjamin sighed again.

"Our first girl Tina was a practice run. I flirted with her, went out with her for a few months and then Skylar made her move with pretending to be a basketball scout. Tina met with her three or four times before we decided it was time. I slept with Tina without Skylar knowing. I didn't mean to I really liked her is all. Skylar invited her to a storage area just outside of town and we drugged her with Chloroform, hit her over the head a couple of times with the shovel and then put her in a bathtub that Skylar had brought, made the cuts and waited. Then I was told to bury them in the desert."

Catherine played with the pen that sat next to her bare notepad.

"What did you do with their clothes?"

"Burnt them in one of the burn tips that they have outside of the city."

"How did Skylar decide who was to die and who was to live?"

Benjamin played with his sleeve.

"She went to several games and decided which ones had the most talent and who deserved to not be on the team. Those were the girl's that Skylar decided should die."

Catherine nodded and made another move to stand just when Benjamin grabbed her wrist. Nick and Warrick came into the room a mere second later, Warrick pushing the man back into his seat.

"Hands off, unless you want to be hurt."

Benjamin shrugged off Nick's hands that were pushing him into the seat.

"What about my deal?"

Catherine tucked the files under her arm, offering Benjamin a small smile.

"This is what lawyers are for Mr. Moore. I told you it depended on what you said and from what I can tell, you were involved in this just as much if not more then Skylar Felton. You are both going to rot in prison or be put to death. Either way I am sure the families will be happy to hear what came of their daughter's killers. Thanks for your help Mr. Moore."

Catherine turned her back on the man, ignoring the man's yells about injustice as she made her way down the hall, making her way to a phone to make a call to Brass about Skylar Felton.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N - I hope that you have enjoyed this story. I know that I have posted this last chapter very quickly after the second to last one but I wanted to finish this off before I started my next story. So please reveiw this last chapter and be sure to tell me what you think! Oh and I will put yet another reminder out there for you all - I don't normally do sex scenes so please excuse anything that may not feel right with it. I must say though that this is definately one of my more...racy ones. So please enjoy and tell me what you think - Trina_**

Chapter Seven - Victims Of Love

"That piece of cloth you gave me to match I couldn't get a sample off of it. The water and detergent washed away all traces of DNA. I am sorry that I can't give you more."

Greg moved out of the room as quickly as he arrived, leaving Sara and Grissom in a down, their high from finding the evidence, evaporated.

"We need to find out why she changed her clothes."

Grissom looked at her with a doubtful look and Sara rolled her eyes.

"I know we know why she changed her clothes but we need her to say why as well. Maybe we could catch her out."

Grissom shook his head and drank the last dregs of his coffee from his cup before standing and moving towards the sink.

"Maybe it's time to look else where. There is Carla. She had motive after her affair with the husband and she was also in the same house at the time of the murder. We need to examine our alternatives."

Sara shook her head, and determinedly started going through the file in front of them.

"She did it. I know she did it. We just need to catch her."

Grissom sat down beside her and took her hands in his and pulled them away from the files.

"Stop and listen. You know how I am about evidence, don't you?"

Sara nodded dumbly, too consumed with the feeling of his hands wrapped over hers, as well as the anger and frustration welling in her chest.

"You need to let the evidence guide you but you need to keep your head on as well. If we explore other avenues then more evidence against her may pop up. Ok?"

Sara nodded then smiled slightly at Grissom.

"Can I just ask her why she changed her clothes? And if it goes nowhere I will drop it."

Grissom nodded and stood up.

"Deal."

Brass had brought Amy Johnston into the interview room, and Sara and Grissom both watched quietly as the women sat, board straight, looking totally unimpressed by the current situation. Sara took a deep breath and moved into the room, Grissom staying behind the glass, prepared to just watch this time.

"Oh great, it's you. How is the face?"

Amy smiled bitterly, her eyes and smile, cold and fake. Her clothes were flawless, as was her hair and her nails. The ice-blue suit that she was wearing made her hair look blonder, and her eyes even more intense and cold. Sara ignored her question over her eye and moved to the seat across from Amy and pulled out the file and placed it her on the table in front of her.

"We took those clothes you gave us and took them for testing. We found blood on them. Care to explain?"

Amy looked at Sara as though she was an idiot, and she proceeded to explain herself in a slow voice, as though to a child.

"I had a blood nose. What do you expect would happen? Dollar bills?"

Sara pushed the pictures that they had collected of the clothing with the spray on it.

"This blue spray here revels where blood has been. There is an awful lot of blood for just a blood nose. Did anyone see you covered on blood?"

Amy shook her head tightly.

"I had a coat on."

Sara nodded and then pretended to look through the file before asking her next question.

"And what causes these nose bleeds?"

Amy sighed and looked towards the large glass window behind Sara.

"I assume that your boss is watching this from behind the glass?"

Sara kept her eyes on Amy, determined not to look away from the cold blue eyes that were staring daggers at her.

"Answer the question please."

Amy sighed again and shifted arrogantly on her seat.

"They are caused by stress or fright believe it or not. If I get a big enough fright I get a popping sound in my nose then it begins to bleed."

Sara doubted everything that this woman said,but she had good reason too. She could feel her patience waning and her anger begin to rise. She stayed where she was in her seat, leaning forward a little more, her teeth clenched.

"We know what you did Amy. What will your husband say when he finds out you killed his only child?"

It happened so quickly that there was little that Sara could have done. Maybe if she had backed off when she should have, then Amy would not have attacked her. But it was too late for that now. Amy leapt across the table, hands out, pushing Sara back and slamming her into the floor. Sara did all she could to defend herself but Amy's nails were like razors, pulling at her clothing and tearing at her skin. She heard Brass come barreling into the room, pulling Amy off of her and into the wall, winding her. He took advantage of her breathlessness, cuffing her and dragging her roughly from the room. Grissom came in, saying nothing as he helped her to her feet. He laced a protective arm over her shoulders and led her out of the room and into his office, locking his door and closing the blinds. She watched him he fussed about his office, setting up the first aid kit. Sara gave him a small smile.

"That bad huh?"

He ignored her attempt to lighten the situation, switching on the lamp that sat on his desk, pushing it closer to her so that he could clearly see what Amy had done. Sara took a seat and examined the wounds that the woman had inflicted upon her. Her wrists, hands and arms were torn with deep trenches that seeped blood slowly. She ran a hand over her face, discovering another series of scratches on her cheek, chin, forehead and neck. Grissom placed a stool in front of her, taking a seat as he studied her wounds carefully with gentle touches.

"They don't look too deep. We'll see after I clean them up."

He took her hands and laid them on his knees, wiping the scratches with a sterile swab. Sara tried to catch his eye, but he was too intent on his task to realize.

"I'm ok Grissom, I really am. This is my fault."

Grissom's voice was cold when he spoke, his shoulders hard.

"She was lucky Brass took her out of the room before I got in there. That's why I was so far behind him, he made me stay back."

"Grissom, she just scratched me."

"Deeply. What if she had nicked a vein or something? This could have been much more serious."

Sara remained silent as he cleaned the blood off the scratches on her arms. He threw the swabs in the nearby bin with practiced ease before he grabbed the next lot of damp swabs.

"This is going to sting."

Sara hissed through her teeth as he dabbed antiseptic on her wounds, trying to distract herself by looking at the books that lined the shelves above Grissom's head. When he was finished with her arms, he gave her a look.

"Did she get you anywhere else?"

"My back. I think she tore through my shirt."

She stood and put her back to Grissom, turning back when he cleared his throat.

"Ummm, I need you to take your shirt off."

Sara almost said no but the humming pain was getting to her and there was no way that she could do this by herself. She quickly took off her shirt, trying to tell herself that it was no big deal. It was her back, not her front that Grissom would be faced with. She also congratulated herself for wearing a clean, half decent bra that day. Grissom focused himself on the task at hand, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to play connect the dots with the light sprinkling of freckles that dotted Sara's smooth skin. He gently swabbed the scratches, following the smooth curve of her spine, doing everything he could to maintain control as he cleaned the wound that sat just above the top of her pants. How Amy had managed to scratch her there, he had no idea. Sara had moved a lot in the attack in an effort to defend herself and Amy must have found an opening. He kept his eyes averted when Sara turned back, doing what little he could to give her a little modesty. She paused, her hand on her collarbone.

"I found another one. It's not too bad is it?"

Grissom leaned in for a closer look, her milky scent attacking his nose. He wiped it gently with antiseptic, enjoying the feeling of her fine bone beneath his fingers. Sara's voice was low as she looked at him.

"What about the ones on my stomach?"

He ignored the invitation in her voice, being as clinical as possible, wiping the swab across her flat stomach. He stood and looked at her face, assessing the scratches that littered her fine features. This close he could see the faded freckles on her nose, the individual hairs that shaped her eyebrows and the slight twinkle in her eyes. He focused on the scratches, ignoring her inviting lips and half smile. It was getting more then he could handle. When he reached the scratch on her cheek, he was beyond help. He wanted nothing more then to lean in and kiss her, to feel her body pressing against his. He wanted her and nothing else. He was beyond any sane, logical reason as he leaned forward even more and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her soft sigh in his mouth. In no time at all, she had her arms around his neck, her chest pressed against his, his hands exploring her marred back. They bumped around his office in a frenzy of kissing, knocking books and specimen jars from the shelves and onto the floor until they finally made it to his sofa that sat to the side of his office. He took off her bra and then his own shirt, desperately needing to feel her bare skin against his, desperately needing a reason to keep his rational thoughts to the back of his brain. He needed her and God knows, he wanted her so badly he shook. Soon they were both naked, exploring each others bodies in of tangled limbs and quick hands. He stilled her hand when it got too much, pinning her arms above her head, intertwining their hands. He continued to kiss her, grinding his hips against hers, making her moan in protest at the torture. He paused for a moment, looking at her closely, searching for any reason to stop.

"Sara…I – "

"Gil, don't stop."

He pushed down his own protests and released her hands, trying to remember where he had put the one and only condom he had in his possession. Sara grabbed his wrist before he could move very far, her eyes seeking his.

"I'm on the pill."

Grissom frowned at her.

"Are you sure?"

Sara didn't say anything as her hand traveled down his body to his shaft, grasping it tightly, making the air disappear from the room and his body. He moved back over her, continuing the onslaught on her body. When he finally entered her, it was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. While he hardly slept with a whole range of woman, it was different when you had not just a physical connection with someone but a mental and emotional one as well. Sara encompassed all those things and it was there, their bodies joined, that he realized that he did not want to go back to the way things were. He wanted this, he wanted to be with her. When they finally climaxed, her kissed her to swallow her moans and to cover his. He collapsed in top of her, waiting until he caught his breath before moving off of her, kissing the sweat off her forehead.

"Sara-"

"Don't. Just enjoy this moment, ok?"

He said nothing as he moved to lie beside her, her head resting on his shoulder. He laid there, Sara dozing beside him, her hair stirring with every breath he took, doing just as she said, enjoying this. The moment where this relationship become something else entirely.

* * *

Skylar Felton had just been arrested and had been brought in for questioning at the police station and Brass had called in Catherine, Nick and Warrick to watch the questioning. The woman sat calm and composed in the chair in the room. Catherine leant against one side of the mirror, watching as Brass dropped the file in front of the woman.

"Where is your lawyer, Miss Felton?"

The young women rolled her eyes at Brass, her body language screamed arrogance and contempt.

"I told you I have nothing to hide."

Brass sat down across from her.

"It's not a matter of what you're hiding; it's a matter of what we have found."

Brass pushed the file towards the woman, and opened it to the first page.

"Why is it that you have been identified as the killer?"

Skylar's jaw dropped, her eyes flashed and one word escaped in a hiss of breath.

"Ben."

Brass smiled bitterly, and sat back, his arms crossed over his chest, content with the goldmine that he had just managed to crack open.

"So you can spill or we can just go by what your lovely accomplice has informed us."

Skylar's shoulders dropped and before everybody's eyes, she became somebody else entirely. Her once smooth face was swallowed in a deep scowl, her eyes narrowed and she kept her fists tightly clenched on the table in front of her.

"So let's start from the beginning shall we? Why, I guess that would be a better place then any to start."

Skylar looked bitterly at Brass.

"They had what I could never have. The fame the glory. Why should I miss out and they gain from my circumstance? Those bitches were not good enough anyway, they were no good, they were frauds and they knew it. They were just waiting to be exposed. I saved them the trouble by disposing of them."

Brass nodded and wrote down something on the pad and paper in front of him, smiling again at the women in front of him.

"So how did you do it? And where?"

"We hired a storage shed outside of town. I gave them one of those notes that you guys found, and then after meeting a couple of times, I suggested that we go too lunch. We would meet at the storage area and then we would drug them, bash them over the head and then bleed them in the bathtub that I had brought."

"Why bleed them?"

Skylar shrugged.

"I have always been fascinated with history. You know that they used to bleed people to make them better. I was trying to get rid of the scum amongst the gold."

"You did it because they got to do something that you didn't?"

Skylar nodded.

"That and they weren't worthy. I didn't just kill random girls; I killed them for a reason."

"Some would point out that there is no good reason for killing."

"Yeah well those people never saw something they love go down the toilet just because someone wasn't doing what they should have."

Skylar was getting more and more worked up by the situation, her breath coming in rapid succession, her eyes were flashing wildly at Brass.

"So what went wrong with Tina Carrington? We know she was your first but you made a hell of a mess of her."

Brass pulled out some pictures from the middle of the file, and placed them in a line in front of Skylar, in order of death.

"We didn't know what to do with her. Though training to be a nurse I knew the basics but bleeding someone was a new experience."

"So what was so wrong with her that you had to kill her?"

Skylar readjusted herself on the seat across from Brass, giving the pictures in front of her a mere passing glance.

"Have you ever met a police officer that so did not fit in their profession? They were not meant to be there and yet they were?"

Brass nodded.

"Yeah all the time."

"Yeah well it's kind of like that. She had the talent, to a point anyway. But mostly she was just passable, getting in by the skin of her teeth. When I suggested that she might want to major in something else not related to sport, she laughed in my face. Really laughed in my face. I managed to convince her to meet me one last time."

"What about the others?"

"Carol Higgins was no good whatsoever at the game, I think she was just filler, and she had one of the worst attitudes towards the game that I had ever seen. Tina Corrington was just as bad as Jessica who was a bit of an egomaniac and that is something that is terrible for the game. So I weeded them out and made sure that the game stayed as pure as you could make it."

Brass nodded and slipped a piece of paper towards the woman, who was now sitting completely relaxed in the chair across from Brass, a air of confidence about her even though she had been caught.

"I need you to sign this. It basically says that you were offered a lawyer but you passed that up and that you did kill those three missing girls."

Skylar looked at Brass while she signed the paper with flourish.

"I get punished for saving a game. That will teach me for trying to improve society."

"You didn't improve the game. You took three girls violently away from their families. You took another human life. That is what you getting punished for."

Brass stood and left the room leaving the women with the pictures of her victims staring at her.

* * *

Sara and Grissom were sitting in the break room, when the silence was broken by a much unexpected phone call that Grissom left the room to take, leaving Sara in the break room, wondering what was going on.

"We just got a massive break. We are going to the garbage dump"

Sara followed without question; the last few days had drained her energy, despite generous donations of the newest energy drinks from Greg. She sat slumped in the truck seat next to Grissom, and tried to keep her eyes open as the buildings and people whipped past. They arrived at the garbage tip in record time, Sara felt overwhelmed by the smell that hung so heavily in the air. But of course while everybody else was curling their noses, Grissom's kept completely straight, nothing passing on his face. A young looking man in a pair of blue overalls, his hair shaggy and unkempt met them at their vehicles. He led them over to a lump hidden under a white sheet.

"We found it and then covered it to not contaminate it. You know, like on the T.V shows."

The man smiled proudly, like he had done something huge. Which if you really wanted to examine it he had but Grissom just smiled slightly and then snapping in his latex gloves, Sara at his side, moved to beside the object. Sara took photos while he slowly and carefully unwrapped the small bundle, under the sheet. It was a pile of clothing and in the folds of fabric there laid a gun. Sara knelt beside Grissom, grinning at him widely.

"It's the gun! These clothes, she was wearing them the day Stacie was killed! We got her Grissom! We got her!"

Sara's grin was starting to hurt her face, but she was beyond caring. She happily started bagging the clothes before Grissom made her pause, wrapping his hand around her wrist.

"She gave us the clothes she was wearing that day."

"Yeah but they had her blood on it, she had an alibi for those. If this matched Stacie's blood, then we have her trapped."

"Yes but how do you explain the fact that we have two sets of clothing?"

Sara shrugged and continued working on bagging and marking the clothing and then finally the gun.

"We can ask her. If this test is positive, then there is nothing she can do. She can't deny it."

Grissom sat back on his heels, and watched Sara work, his thoughts moving through the case piece by piece. The child abuse was a relevant factor, but the evidence was incredibly haphazard. He was not convinced. He kept his thoughts to himself, enjoying the happiness that was coming off of Sara in waves. They hunted down Greg as soon as they arrived back at the office, and waited impatiently in the break room for Greg's page. Sara felt like she was going to bounce out of her skin, and she was nowhere near sitting and instead settled for pacing. It was almost a relief when Grissom's pager went off, and Sara had to stop her self from running down the hall into Greg's lab. The moment she saw his face, her good spirits fell from her chest

"Do you want the bad news or the worse news?"

Sara sat heavily in the spare chair behind Greg.

"Either way…."

Sara let the statement hang unfinished in the air. Greg shrugged and handed Grissom a slip of paper.

"The blood isn't Stacie's. It's Amy Johnston's."

"And the gun?"

Greg handed Sara the sheet of paper this time, smiling sadly.

"It had two sets of prints on it. Stacie's …and Carla Reid."

Sara looked at Grissom in stunned silence, and watched open mouthed as he proceeded to call Brass to bring the young women into the offices. Sara continued to sit in silence as the minutes lapsed, happy to keep her hands busy when Greg passed her one of the energy drinks that he seemed to have a never ending supply of in his fridge. Greg said nothing, knew that there was nothing he could say to bring her hopes back up, but he just let her sit in the lab waiting for Grissom to get her for the interview, when the page came though, he shot her a sympathetic look before she left and then continued with his work.

Sara found Grissom standing outside of the interview, leaning against the glass, watching Carla Reid, who was sitting quietly at the table.

"Are you ok Sara?"

Sara shook her head, leaning it against the cool unyielding glass.

"No, far from it. I wanted Amy Johnston for this Grissom. They both treated that little girl so badly, and now it looks like the only person who she trusted her betrayed her in a way that was unforgivable. I can't quite wrap my head around the disappointment that I feel."

"We have a job to do, and we have to follow the evidence, even if it takes us to a place we don't want to be. And as hard as it is to accept, this is what we have found."

He indicated Carla with a slight twist of his wrist; he then took off his glasses and proceeded to clean them with the soft cloth he pulled from his front pocket.

"I know Grissom, it's like stating that the sky is blue or that blood is red, it is annoyingly obvious. I just sometimes wish that the evidence led to the big bad and not what little good that girl had in her world."

Grissom nodded, looking again at the girl sitting in the break room.

"It's never that easy. And if you were truly honest with yourself you would see that that is why you are doing this. We see people on the worst days of their lives and in your heart of hearts; you are doing this because you want to help people through that time. Good, bad or ugly that's what we do. That is what you do and it's who you are."

Sara took her head off the glass and smiled ironically at Grissom.

"That is the same for you, you know that right?"

Grissom shrugged and then put his glasses back on his nose, folding the cloth then putting it back into his pocket.

"Yeah I suppose it does in a way. I need to be reminded of that to sometimes"

Sara moved towards that door leading into the interview room, turning towards Grissom, a small smile on her lips.

"Let's make a deal. We pull each other up next time we start to doubt. Deal?"

Sara held out her hand, smiling a little more when Grissom took it, gripping her smaller hand in his larger one. Their eyes locked as soon as their skin made contact, the same electricity zipping up their arms. Flashes of what had happened in his office popped into his mind, on their own accord. He wanted to kiss her again, to taste her sweet mouth, to feel her hot breath against his skin. If only they were back in his office or at his house, where they could do as they pleased. Instead they were here, an imposed politeness forcing Grissom to move with his reason and not his libido.

"Deal"

They moved into the room together, each taking a seat across the table from Carla Reid. Sara jumped in first before Grissom could say a word.

"So do you want to tell us what really happened the day that Stacie died, or do we have to put it together with we what we have gathered?"

Carla started twisting the cuff of her hoody, the same red one that she was wearing the day that Sara met her.

"I really didn't kill Stacie."

Sara shook her head, staring at her doubtfully.

"You lied to us once before. What makes it any different now?"

"I didn't kill her. You have to belief me."

Grissom looked at the young women, eyebrows pushed together.

"Then tell us what happened, prove us wrong."

Carla nodded slowly, and then looked at the table, her voice coming out slight, and shaky.

"I really was downstairs making her afternoon tea, and Mrs. Johnson really did come home for something that she had forgotten, and she did go upstairs to see Stacie, but I didn't hear the pop until after I heard her car drive out."

Carla paused, looking back and forth between Grissom and Sara, as though desperate for them to believe her.

"I went upstairs and I saw her lying there. She did do as you first thought, she did shoot herself. I don't know why the gun was even out but it was. I took the gun and wrapped it in some clothes that I found in the wastebasket in the Johnson's master bedroom. She had had a nose bleed the day before, she was so stressed she was having them sometimes twice a day. I wrapped the gun in the clothes and them shoved them into the bin outside. It wasn't until you guys showed up that I panicked and realized how badly I screwed up but by then it was too late."

Grissom shook his head again.

"It was never too late, but now it is. Fooling around with evidence can get you sometimes more time then an actual crime sadly enough."

Carla's eyes grew huge, and tears started rolling down her pale cheeks.

"She really was abusing Stacie. She hurt her so badly it was horrible to see. I remember the first time I saw her hit Stacie was when she was refusing to eat her vegetables."

Carla paused for a few seconds; her eyes were once again locked on the table, still wide and glassy, her voice low and steady.

"She threw her across the floor like a rag doll, and Stacie hit her head on the kitchen table. I stayed with her figuring that I could at least protect her a little. I just could not protect her from herself."

Sara, though she enjoyed bringing in the bad guy, hated the bittersweet taste that she had in her mouth, and the sense of loss over that fact the bad guy was actually the victim. And that the victim had wanted too die.

Sara and Grissom were sitting in the break room with the rest of the team, drinking coffee and discussing their cases. Sara didn't say anything, her thoughts still caught in the little girl.

"Do you think she killed herself, Grissom? On purpose I mean."

Grissom thought for a moment, turning to Sara, keeping his voice low.

"It's possible. But we will never really know what was going on in Stacie's head. Only she knew her reasons."

"It's not right Grissom. There is something wrong when an eight year old child picks up a gun with the intention of killing herself. I feel disillusioned. I can't keep doing this Grissom. It's too much."

Grissom made a quick look around the room, ensuring that the others were distracted before taking Sara's hand in his.

"That's what makes you a good CSI Sara. You're willing to invest so much even though you get little in return."

"I thought I always got too emotionally involved."

"You are but you know what? I'm a little envious of you for that. I wish that people saw in me what they saw in you."

Sara smiled at him slightly, grateful for his attempt to cheer her up.

"They do Grissom, you just to let more people see it. You were just as invested in this case as I was."

Grissom squeezed her hand lightly before slipping it from his grasp with a small sigh of regret. Unfortunately, that little escapade in his office had done something that he never thought would ever happen; he had allowed himself to see just how much he cared for the pretty, young woman, who was meant to be nothing more then a student and colleague.

"Sara, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Sara looked at him, her eyes wide. She blinked a few more times before smiling at him.

"Sure. Let's celebrate another closed case."

"How about we just have a nice dinner? Not talk about work for once?"

Sara smiled again before settling into her seat, allowing the conversation that the others were having washed over her. She hated having such a bad conclusion for a case but Stacie chose her own way out and Sara could do nothing about that. Unfortunately, as she did with ever other closed case, she had to push it aside and focus on the next one coming. She could not dwell on something that she could not change. They had gotten both Mr. and Mrs. Johnston for abuse, so at least there was some justice in that. Stacie's reason's for her suicide were just that; Stacie's reason's. Sara had to accept it and move one, something that she always found hard to do. This case had a slight upside; Grissom. They had taken a very fast, unexpected step in sleeping together. They could go nowhere except forward from here.

"Sara, stop dwelling. What are you plans for this weekend?"

Sara looked up to Nick's wide, questioning smile. She glanced at Grissom.

"Dinner with a friend"

"Oh a boyfriend is it? Are you getting a bit on the side young lady?"

Sara smiled back at him.

"Maybe. Not quite sure yet, but I'll keep you posted."

Grissom cocked his eyebrows at her, a small smile on his face. The dinner sounded like a terribly promising affair.


End file.
